


PCrab's HLVRAI Kinktober 2020

by PCrabapple



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware
Genre: Aftercare, Alien Sex, Anal Fingering, Anonymous Sex, Asphyxiation, Bath Sex, Blindfolds, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bondage, Breathplay, Chemicals, Collars, Crying, Cunnilingus, Cybernetics, Dacryphilia, Deepthroating, Degradation, Demon Summoning, Demons, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Edging, Excessive Come, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Femdom, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, Gangbang, Glory Hole, Gunplay, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, Knifeplay, Lapdance, Leashes, Lesbian Sex, Licking, Lingerie, M/M, Master/Pet, Medical Kink, Men Crying, Mirror Sex, Monster sex, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Occult, Omorashi, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Pegging, Phone Sex, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Predator/Prey, Ritual Public Sex, Roleplay, Roleplay Logs, Ruined Orgasms, Scars, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Sleep Sex, Sleepwalking, Somnophilia, Sounding, Stranger Sex, Stripping, Suspension, Teasing, The Suit Jacks Him Off, Thighs, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Uniform Kink, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism, bladder desperation, foot worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 45,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCrabapple/pseuds/PCrabapple
Summary: Kinktober 2020 prompts and fills. Multiple pairings. But probably focus on Frenrey.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Benrey/Gordon Freeman/Forzen, Benrey/Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Bubby/Dr. Coomer/The G-Man (Half-Life), Forzen/Female Black Ops Team, Tommy Coolatta/Darnold, Tommy Coolatta/Forzen, Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 125
Kudos: 764





	1. Day 1: Bath Sex- Gordon/Benrey

**Author's Note:**

> Never done this sort of challenge before. Hopefully I can last at least a week before I give up. Will update tags and pairings as I go.
> 
> NO MINORS.

“This is a bad idea,” Gordon says. Even as he carefully maneuvers against Benrey, a bit of water splashes over the edge of the tub.

“Sooo, then stop it maybe?” Benrey says, spreading his knees as wide as they’ll go so Gordon can sit himself on his lap. It’s not very far in the narrow space.

“Shut up.” Gordon grasps Benrey’s shoulders, trying to fit his legs in what little space there is around the other man. “We’ll just...go slow.”

“Uh huh. Sure thing, buddy,” Benrey says, like he doesn’t really believe Gordon. Like he’s pretty sure Gordon will demand he go harder and faster as he gets more into it. Like always.

Gordon can’t tell him to watch his tone, because he’s suddenly full of him, the entry eased by his already relaxed state, warm water doing wonders for his muscles. “Mmff. God…”

“Yeah…” Benrey huffs, leaning his head back. It thunks against the tile behind him. He wraps his hand around Gordon, their wet flesh sliding together almost too smoothly.

Gordon starts to move. Even the gentlest bouncing creates waves, water sloshing over the side and onto the floor. The bathmat is probably soaked. But it’s very hard to care.

Guh...Faster,” Gordon says, leaning back so Benrey can hit his prostate better. His hand slips as he tries to grip the edge of the tub. He nearly falls back and cracks his skull on the faucet, but Benrey’s arm is around him, pulling him up.

“You uhh...forget already? You said to go slo-”

“Fuck what I said!” Gordon snaps, ignoring the way his knees grind against the non-slip coating on the bottom of the bathtub.

“You’re the boss,” Benrey says, holding Gordon’s hips tightly as he drives up into him. Gordon ignores the sound of water pouring over the sides and crashing to the ground.

“Y-yeah, more!” Gordon gasps, leaning back carefully this time, aided by Benrey’s support. He ignores the strain in the tendons in his left ankle. Just a little more. He can endure it for a little more...

“Like this?” Benrey asks, shifting. The new angle crushes Gordon’s leg between Benrey and the wall of the tub, but Gordon ignores it in favor of the friction inside of him that has his eyes rolling back.

“Yes! Oh fuck! Just like...ahh!” He feels something pull the wrong way in his leg as he comes. The jizz splattering his stomach is quickly washed into the tub around him. Benrey continues to pound against him in a choppy sea of cummy bathwater.

When they’ve both finished Gordon is laying awkwardly against Benrey’s warm, wet chest, too tired to find a more comfortable position. He looks out onto the bathroom floor, groaning when he sees the near half-inch of standing water, the dark spot as it creeps into the carpeted hallway.

“That was…” Gordon begins, rubbing at the overexerted muscle in his thigh.

“Bad idea.” Benrey agrees, his strong fingers joining Gordon’s to massage the sore spot.


	2. Day 2: Stripping- Tommy/Darnold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not quite a striptease but stripping nonetheless c:

There’s the sound of glassware hitting the table, but Tommy is laser-focused on his titration and doesn't notice until Darnold speaks. 

"Uh oh… I uh...maybe got a problem here."

"What?" Tommy manages to close the stopcock on his burette before looking up. The other scientist is standing back from the workbench, where an overturned Erlenmeyer flask is dripping out the last of a nearly-glowing purple solution. The rest of it is splashed onto the front of Darnold's lab coat.

"O-oh no, is that…?" Tommy starts, his own experiment forgotten.

"The ah… highly concentrated Acidberry™ flavor, yeah," Darnold replies, anxiety increasing the pitch of his voice. 

"The...the safety shower!" Tommy says, jumping into action after allowing himself only a moment of frozen panic. They've wasted too much time already. Acrid smoke is rising from the purple stain on Darnold's coat. Tommy grabs Darnold's arm and pulls him to the chemical shower station in the corner.

"Right," Darnold follows easily, though he stumbles a bit when stepping into the shallow tub beneath the wide showerhead. "Is the maintenance inspection within expiration?" he asks, grasping the pull handle, 

Tommy checks the log mounted to the wall. "Um...yes, yes its good!" Darnold pulls the handle and the shower opens up, a deluge of water pouring over him. Darnold rips open his labcoat and sheds it, then, to Tommy’s alarm, begins to unbutton his shirt. Of course, this is standard procedure, his brain supplies. A chemical spill is no time for modesty.

But Tommy still feels like he’s intruding… “Should I...should I leave?” he asks over the sound of the shower. “Get some…” But he has no idea what he might get.

"Oh, please don't. I need help undressing. And for you to check for chemical burns on my skin," Darnold says, his soaked periwinkle shirt giving way to the expanse of deep russet skin beneath. 

Tommy's own skin heats as he forces his gaze to rake over Darnold's bare chest. His breath stutters like it's tripping over uneven ground as he spots the dark hair dusting his pectorals. His eyes snap to the deeper brown of his nipples, hardening in the cold water from the shower.

"See anything?"

 _Yeah. Lots,_ Tommy thinks. This is why he never goes into the locker room with Darnold. He doesn't need to find more reason to be attracted to his coworker. “N...no. It looks g-...fine,” he says, pulling the wet shirt off of Darnold’s lovely shoulders. He’s thought about undressing him, but not quite in this context.

“Great. Okay, lets get the pants now.”

“Y- right,” Tommy says, fingers shaking not only from the chilly temperature. “I’ll… get the belt.” 

He fumbles with the water-slippery buckle while Darnold’s hands tangle with his to undo the button and fly beneath. Tommy swallows nervously, wishing he could stall but knowing time is of the essence. Darnold’s trousers are open in seconds, and he’s pushing them down his hips. He’s either not wearing underwear or efficiently removes his slacks and boxers in one motion.

Shameful heat flares on Tommy’s face as he stares openly. He has an excuse, of course, but he feels awful for checking out his colleague when he’s supposed to be helping him. Darnold’s fuzzy thighs are wonderful. His thick cock is beautiful. It looks heavy. Tommy would gladly hold it for him.

“Any burns?” Darnold asks. Tommy wonders how long he’s been ogling him. 

“Oh. No… I think… you’re okay.” Tommy says. He hopes his extremely distracted brain has made the correct assessment.

“Just okay?” Darnold asks, shutting off the shower. There’s something light in his voice, but Tommy can’t bring himself to check his expression. He stares down and to the side, face burning as he listens to the water dripping off of the other man’s body.

“You’re...hh…”

“Hmm? What are you sayin’?” Darnold asks, taking a step towards the edge of the basin, sloshing through the water and shed clothing. "Do you...see somethin' you like?"

Tommy is certain his face can’t get any redder as the words tumble from his mouth. “Darnold you’re...hotter than a… an August afternoon in Albuquerque.” His stomach drops with embarrassment that he actually said that. “S-Sorry…”

Darnold laughs gently. "It's okay, thank you, Tommy," he says. There's a peeling sound and Tommy watches an empty nitrile glove flutter down and settle over the edge of the wet basin. Darnold's warm, dry hand cups Tommy’s cheek, steers his face back up.

Darnold smiles at him, gorgeous mahogany eyes looking directly into Tommy’s. "I see somethin' I like, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should actually shower for at least 15 minutes after a chemical spill. Lab safety is no joke!


	3. Day 3: Dirty Talk- Gordon/Benrey

“Stress Levels. Elevated. Reproduction. Simulation. Initiated.”

“Ah...damnit.” Gordon manages to duck into a storage room, shutting the door behind him before the HEV suit announces its intentions to the whole fucking complex. He’s gotten pretty good at predicting when this is going to happen, when he’s going to need some privacy.

Gordon slides down the door to sit against it, closing his eyes and licking his lips. He takes a deep breath as the suit begins to work its weird, mechanical magic, the latex suctioning tightly around his cock...

“Yo what’s that feel like?”

Gordon jerks, slamming back against the door in surprise, his eyes flying open to dart around the room. He grits his teeth as his gaze settles on Benrey sitting on a wooden crate on a shadowy corner.

“What the fuck!? Get...get the fuck out.” Gordon does not need him here right now. Or anywhere, ever, for that matter.

“You came in here, bro. And you’re kinda blocking the door,” Benrey says, like he can’t just noclip through the wall. “The suit’s jacking you off, right? That feel good?”

“Shut up,” Gordon says, gasping as the suit starts to apply pressure, starting at the base of his cock and working its way up, even and precise.

“I bet you fuckin’ love that shit.” Benrey leans forward a little, putting his hands on his knees as he watches Gordon squirm. “Getting your dick robo-sucked whenever you want.”

“Don’t...fucking come any closer you bastard!” Gordon hisses. Why did he have to choose this room, of all places?

“I’m just chillin’, man.” Benrey shrugs, and indeed, he’s made no move towards Gordon. Gordon is the one intruding here. He could leave, he’s not incapacitated yet, but… “Hmm. Your face is all red. What’s that bad boy doing to you?” Benrey continues.

“It… it’s… wha- no! I’m not telling you!” Gordon absolutely won’t tell him how the pressurized rings along the sleeve encasing his dick are squeezing him from base to tip, like it’s milking him.

“Just askin’. Hey where’s the jizz go? Does it just sit there in the suit every time? You a crusty lil’ cum boy?” Gordon nearly chokes on nothing, turning his head to look anywhere else. Benrey leans forward more, chin in his hands and elbows on his knees.

“You gonna come?” Benrey asks. Gordon shakes his head no, despite the fact that that he absolutely is. He hates how well Benrey seems to be working with the suit, from all the way across the room no less. “You should. Go on. Have a real cool orgasm right here in front of me. Like I know you wanna.”

“Fuck you…”

“You wish. Nasty sex-man. Dirty. Filthy. Gonna make a mess in your fancy, high-tech Fuck Suit, huh?”

 _“Yes!”_ Gordon admits as the suit does that little extra hard, circular squeeze that works every time. Then he’s spilling into it, harder than usual, tension wringing out of him through his cock.

It’s quiet now except for Gordon’s panting, the rush of blood past his ears, the scrape of his boot against the floor as his legs go slack. 

And then, “Niiice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love for this to be a lot longer and dirtier but, y'now.


	4. Day 4: Orgasm Denial- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-negotiated kink in this one, be warned. I edited this to give gordon a bit more agency, and make benrey a little less cruel. I'm a big softie.
> 
> It's also a continuation of Day 3

“Feels good, huh?” Benrey asks. He’s crowded Gordon into a corner, watching him with an intensity the Gordon never sees when he’s fucking around being a nuisance in Black Mesa. 

Gordon nods fervently as the HEV suit strokes him. He can admit the suit feels good, no problem. It’s much harder to confess how much he enjoys Benrey being here during it, even to himself. Something about the other man observing him, talking to him, teasing him, makes it all the more pleasurable, in a shameful, mortifying sort of way.

“So fuckin’ greedy, arent’cha? This is what, third time today? You gonna marry this thing?.” 

Gordon bites his lip. It’s true, he’s been getting aroused more often, but usually it’s because he’s been thinking about Benrey and his stupid ramblings, not the suit. He’s not going to tell him that, of course.

“Tell me when you’re gonna come,” Benrey says. He lifts a hand and Gordon’s stomach flips in anticipation. Benrey places his palm on Gordon’s hip. It’s light, no pressure, and Gordon can’t feel it. But he can imagine he feels it, Benrey’s hot skin burning against his own.

The phantom sensation combined with the suit’s relentless suctioning and squeezing pushes him closer and closer. Gordon doesn’t think it’s going to get to its finishing move this time.

“I'm...okay...gonna...yeah…” Gordon babbles, wishing Benrey would touch him more, but he’s not going to give the other man the satisfaction of asking.

“Hmm,” Benrey looks down, which is strange because there’s not much to see down there with all those layers of latex and metal covering Gordon. Benrey is usually staring hard at Gordon’s face when he comes.

Gordon looks down too, and lets out a high-pitched noise of surprise when he sees Benrey’s hand phased right through the hip plate of the suit. His brain goes wild with the possibilities of what Benrey might do. He wonders why he didn’t do anything sooner. He can feel Benrey’s fingers for real now, groping and searching.

And then, suddenly the mechanical pressure ceases, right on the precipice of Gordon’s peak.

“Reproduction. Simulation. Disabled. Rerouting. Power.” The HEV suit’s disinterested drone confirms what Benrey’s done.

“Wh-what the _fuck?!_ ” Gordon chokes out, looking up into Benrey’s cruel smirk. “What did you do? Put it...turn it back on!”

“Hev suit’s hogging all your orgasms,” Benrey says. “Asked Tommy to tell me where the suck-funtion wires were.” he steps back, observing the full picture of Gordon’s shaking, desperate form. 

Gordon gapes at Benrey, mind reeling. “Wh-...what the fuck?” is all he can say. He’s still incredibly hard, leaking inside the suit, begging for release. But with all the protective layering around him, there’s nothing he can do about it. Not by himself.

“Want a bro to help you out?” Benrey asks with a raised, suggestive eyebrow. He could. He’s proven that he can get into the suit. Gordon can imagine him sinking his hand through the codpiece to wrap his hand around him, warm and tight, bringing him to orgasm with a slightly more human touch. But outright asking Benrey to get him off is something Gordon can’t bring himself to do. There’s still a mental wall keeping him from accepting that he might have something like attraction to Benrey.

"I mean, if you can't live without your precious nut machine I'll turn it back on, if you ask nicely," Benrey says after a few moments. 

Gordon scowls. Of course he can live without it. This particular function is almost pure sexual decadence.

“Fuck off.” Gordon growls. He could ask, yes, but he doesn't want to appear so weak to immediately beg for the return of the HEV suit’s jackoff mode. Even if he wants it badly. Wants any kind of release, machine or otherwise.

Benrey shrugs. “ f’you say so.” He says, walking towards the exit. “Lemme know if you change your mind, idiot.” Gordon can hear him cackling in the hallway even after he shuts the door. 

Gordon groans and presses an ineffectual hand to the crotch of the HEV suit. He can’t even pretend to feel anything this time. 

He’s going to have to give in and ask. Gordon wonders how long he can hold out.


	5. Day 5: Suspension Play, Power Diff- Tommy/Forzen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this anything???

Tommy doesn’t make himself known immediately when he comes across the trapped HECU soldier. He spends a few minutes watching him struggle, twisting and writhing in the warring grasps of two barnacles competing for a meal. One has its ghastly tongue wrapped around his calves, the other pins his arms against his torso, keeping him from unraveling himself or reaching his submachine gun. His red beret sits next to it on the ground just a few feet below him. There’s something elegant about the way the solder turns in his bonds, muscles flexing, tendons stretching. Something primal about the way he grunts with effort, trying to survive. It's certainly a safety violation, but Tommy could watch and listen all day.

Eventually the barnacles seem to exhaust themselves, and the man is left hanging like a bizarre chandelier, nearly parallel to the ground and facing the floor. He looks rather tired himself, his struggle growing sluggish and futile.

“Hi,” Tommy says, stepping out from around the corner. The soldier cranes his neck to look at Tommy, and yes, it is Forzen. He stops moving as Tommy approaches, still swaying a bit with residual momentum. 

“Uh...hey.” He sounds sheepish, like he’s embarrassed to be caught in this situation.

“Looks like you’re in quite a...real predicament, huh?” Tommy walks up to Forzen, finding he’s hanging at just about chest-level. 

“Yeah. I guess…” Forzen replies, fixing his wary glare on Tommy bending down to pick up the MP5. Tommy checks the gun’s ammo and safety. He peers down the sights, pointing the barrel first at one barnacle, then the other, and finally at Forzen’s head. The soldier flinches, his whole body twitching and setting him rocking back and forth in his bonds again.

Tommy smiles and lowers the gun. “Do you want some help getting out?” He reaches out to push against Forzen’s shoulder, swinging him a little more. He's a bit like a porch swing on a breezy summer evening. There’s an unpleasant squelching sound from one of the barnacles. They both look up, Forzen’s neck twisting at an uncomfortable angle.

“Whatever. If you want. I dunno. Kinda like it here.” Forzen shrugs to the best of his ability.

“Really?” Tommy asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Now that someone else is around. It’s uh...not so bad. Tommy, right?” Tommy nods. "You're...you're cool." Forzen’s cheeks flush as he says it. It’s a nice look on him, Tommy thinks. He looks nice like this, all tied up and helpless.

“Well...I can help you… you just have to promise not to hurt my friends.” Tommy squats down to look up at Forzen from underneath. From here he can see what he’s started to suspect. The tenson of the restraints on his legs tightens the fabric of his fatigues, making his developing erection quite apparent. 

“Okay. Yeah… I promise. There’s plenty of other stuff to shoot around here.” Forzen says. 

“Uh huh.” Tommy points the gun at Forzen again, though his finger is nowhere near the trigger. He watches appreciatively as Forzen squirms, as his face grows redder, as the tent in his pants swells. “So...how can I help you?” Tommy puts the gun away and stands back up, picking up the soldier’s beret as he does so. He places it back on Forzen’s head, fingers brushing over the fuzzy shaved hair above his ears.

“Hhh. There’s a uh… Beyblade in my pocket. You could...find it. If you want.” Forzen clears his throat awkwardly

Tommy laughs. He doesn’t need the promise of a Beyblade to go feeling around, but he’ll oblige. “Is it... here?” He asks, putting his palm over one of the pockets strapped to Forzen’s chest. It's empty, and Tommy can feel his tensing pectoral muscle underneath it, bulging out a bit over the coil of barnacle rope just below. 

Forzen shakes his head, his hat immediately falls off again. His arms flex against the bonds, but the barnacle isn’t letting go. “No. Not there.” Tommy takes a moment to admire Forzen’s straining triceps. 

“Hmm…” Tommy takes a step towards Forzen’s feet. He reaches towards the pouch attached to the bound man’s upper leg. He misses deliberately, wrapping his hand around Forzen’s thick thigh instead. “Is it in this pocket?”

“N-no… Not that one...either,” Forzen pants, squirming, trying to maneuver his crotch closer to Tommy’s palm.

“Well,” Tommy gives a mock put-upon sigh, “I guess I’ll... just have to keep looking…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not look to this fic for portrayals of proper safe, sane and consensual practices :I  
> Or gun safety practices.


	6. Day 6: Blowjobs - Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion of days 3 and 4.

“Okay,” Gordon says, biting out the word.

“Huh?” Benrey looks up from the dead headcrab he’s been unloading bullets into.

Gordon shuts his eyes, takes a breath. “Okay you can help me out with…” He gestures vaguely to his groin. 

“Yeah? Freeman misses his jackoff-machine? Needs to get his jizz fix?”

“Shut up,” Gordon hisses, looking over his shoulder to where the rest of The Science Team is discussing an obstacle involving crates and pistons or some such nonsense. He knew this would be a mistake. But he can’t help it. Yes, maybe the HEV suit had spoiled him a bit. He’s feeling cranky without his multi-dailly orgasms. He hates to admit it. He hates to admit to Benrey most of all. But it’s not like there’s anyone else to tell. “Let’s just...go...get it done.”

“‘Kay,” Benrey says, following Gordon to some sap’s tiny, poorly lit office. Gordon leans on the desk, drumming his fingers against the metal tabletop awkwardly.

“So…” Gordon clears his throat. Interacting with Benrey in this context is a lot easier when the suit is already doing its thing.

“Uh huh,” Benrey smiles an infuriating little smile and waits. Gordon groans.

“Okay. So...fix the suit or...do what you were gonna do or whatever...please.” There. He’s gotten it out. 

“Hmm...How ‘bout both?” Benrey asks, stepping in close. He puts his hand on Gordon’s hip, he’s already noclipping through the suit to rest his hand against the skin beneath.

“Wh-...How…” Gordon starts, trying to imagine what that will involve. But he just shuts up and nods.

Benrey grins wider and gets down on his knees. Gordon chews on his tongue as Benrey fiddles with the inside of the suit again. Gordon tells himself not to let Benrey near him after this. He doesn’t want him to be able to turn it off again.

“Reproduction. Simulation. Enabled.” The HEV suit announces. Then almost immediately, “Libidinal. Response. Detected. Initiating. Reproduction. Simulation.” Gordon huffs in embarrassment. He wasn’t going to pretend he’s not already a little aroused, but the suit doesn’t have to go telling everyone. The latex around Gordon’s dick immediately compresses as the suit gets to work. 

“Ready to go, huh? This is a real touching reunion. Hope I’m not intruding,” Benrey says, taking off his helmet and setting it on the floor. Without further ado he leans in and nuzzles against Gordon’s cock, his face phasing through the front of the suit. 

Gordon is not at all prepared for the strange combination of sensations as Benrey starts to run his lips along his shaft. Benrey is phasing through the HEV suit, but not through Gordon. He’s not impeded by the pressure sleeves around Gordon’s erection. The result is that Gordon can feel both the suit and Benrey’s mouth on him in the same places. If he tries to think about the physics of it, his brain starts to hurt, and it’s already not functioning on all cylinders. He decides not to contemplate this reality-bending concept too hard, focusing instead on the immense pleasure being double-teamed by Benrey and the suit is bringing him.

“Oh-...oh my god,” Gordon gasps as Benrey swirls his tongue around the head of his dick, while the suit strokes him up and down in its even, measured pace. Benrey can’t maneuver Gordon’s cock into the most ergonomic position for dick-sucking, he’s still restricted by the suit. But Benrey’s inhuman tongue is long and flexible, able to find its way into the narrow space between Gordon’s heated flesh and his thigh. Gordon cannot hope to stifle the sounds of intense pleasure spilling from his mouth.

“Fffuck, oh...shit...Benrey.” Gordon is lucky he’s already half-sitting on the desk, otherwise he would likely collapse. He quickly puts a hand to the back of Benrey’s head, pulling him in. He doesn’t have enough mental processing power to appreciate Benrey’s hair phasing through the HEV suit’s gloves to brush against his palm. He also doesn’t have the capacity to be disturbed by the way Benrey’s face appears to disappear into the suit when he’s pressed against him.

Every bit of brainpower is trying to comprehend the duelling stimulation. The HEV suit’s movements are robotic and even, standard, doing what it always does with tried-and-true efficiency. Benrey’s movements are more chaotic, wet, and... the word “passionate” comes to Gordon’s scrambled mind unbidden. His tongue moves up and down in the almost direct opposite direction as the suit’s pressure rings. They almost sync up for a moment, but Benrey’s movements quickly fall out of step as his lips wrap around the tip of Gordon’s dick and suck hard. It’s extremely confusing to try to track the two forces individually or together, to say which one feels better.

Gordon’s brain feels like it’s completely scrambled as he cums into the suit, into Benrey’s mouth. At the same time? He has no clue. He barely hears his own drawn-out moan as he thrusts against Benrey. 

“Ugh, cum didn’t pass through. Suit’s still hogging it all,” Benrey says, disappointment in his voice. 

“I...okay.” Gordon says, slowly lowering himself to lay back on the desk, unable to think of anything at all, really. Certainly not the physical logistics of Benrey not being able to swallow his semen through the suit despite Gordon being able to still feel his saliva on his softening cock. 

He closes his eyes, feeling Benrey’s warm hands on him, shifting him into a more comfortable position. That’s one thing the suit can’t do, the thought manages to form itself in Gordon’s blanked-out mind. Maybe he’ll rethink his ban on Benrey getting near him after this.

“Bro you look like if a sexy balloon got all deflated,” Benrey says.

That’s something else the suit can’t do. Say stupid fucking shit like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benrey are you maybe a lil jealous of the HEV suit????


	7. Day 7: Thigh Fucking, Public Sex- Gordon/ Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Resonance Cascade AU

“Hey, got a minute?” Gordon asks, grabbing Benrey’s wrist as he passes him in the hall. Benrey is a little surprised. Usually Gordon rolls his eyes and scoffs when Benrey makes eyes at him in the sterile corridors of Black Mesa.

 _For you, I've got an eternity,_ Benrey thinks. “Huh?” Benrey says.

“C’mon,” Gordon keeps his hold on Benrey, pulls him down a side hallway and then into a closet. He immediately begins unbuttoning his lab coat.

“Uh, sweet...closet.” Benrey kicks a mop out of the way. “Come here often?”

“I’m just...really fuckin’ horny,” Gordon says, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. Benrey watches with raised eyebrows as Gordon scrabbles fingers at his belt buckle. And yeah, he’s packing major wood in his slacks.

“Nice. Me too now.” Benrey says. He’s pretty much game for anything, and starts undoing his own fly. He steps close to kiss Gordon, but-

“Turn around,” Gordon orders, manhandling Benrey by the shoulder to make him face the wall. Benrey finds himself looking at an ancient Black Mesa Safety Council poster. It must be from before the 70s because the scientist pictured as the paragon of responsibility is smoking a cigarette.

“You got um...lube?” Benrey asks, because he doesn’t. He’d stopped carrying it around after a few weeks when it seemed his fantasies of a quickie at work weren’t going to come true. And of course now that he doesn’t have any Gordon is jumping him out of nowhere.

“No. No time for that anyway.” Gordon’s voice is breathy behind him, his belt buckle clinking as it finally opens. Benrey has no idea what could be in store as he tries not to stare at the guy in the poster because he sucks and isn’t Gordon.

“Sooo what are we doin’ then?” Benrey can’t think of much that can happen in this position that isn’t anal. He feels a little silly facing the wall with his cock and ass hanging out, no clue what’s about to happen.

“Just...stand there and...put your legs together,” Gordon says urgently. He sounds really fucking worked up. Benrey’s starting to get there too, just from observing how hot to trot Gordon is. He hears Gordon spitting on something, his hand or his dick probably, and Benrey adjusts his stance, incredibly curious as to what’s coming. Aside from Gordon.

“‘Kay,” Benrey says. Not a second later Gordon is pressed up against his back, and the burning wet heat of his dick is shoved in between Benrey’s bare legs.

“Ah...yeah…” Gordon groans against him. The cold tip of his nose finds the nape of Benrey’s neck, nuzzling into him.

“Yeah?” Benrey grins, loving the feeling of Gordon so close to him, taking pleasure from him in such an unexpected way.

“Yeah…” Gordon repeats, then starts to move, sliding his cock along the insides of Benrey’s thighs. He’s not wasting any time, immediately thrusting against him with a frenzied pace.

“Cool,” is all Benrey can say, unable to articulate the complicated mound of positive emotions piling up as he feels Gordon gripping his hips, breathing against his ear, fucking his legs.

Benrey squeezes his thighs together, nearly crossing them to give Gordon a tighter place to thrust into. Gordon makes a strangled noise that becomes a groan of pleasure. Benrey isn’t even seeing the safety scientist in the poster anymore, focused entirely on the sounds and sensations behind him.

“...can’t lower the sample size. The results won’t be statistically significant.” A voice outside the door cuts Gordon off. He bites at the crook of Benrey’s shoulder to silence himself, getting half a mouthful of sensitive skin, half a mouthful of shirt collar.

“But it’s unrealistic to expect funding for anything more than-” Another voice replies. Benrey thinks Gordon might stop, get embarrassed by the fact he’s humping Benrey so close to his colleagues. He would hate to lose the sensation of Gordon’s dick grazing along the bottom of his own throbbing erection, the feeling of Gordon’s tip jostling his ball sack.

“I told you, funding isn’t an issue. You aren’t working for a state university anymore, Garrison.” But Gordon doesn’t stop. He just bites down harder, doesn’t even try to quiet the sound of his hips smacking against Benrey’s asscheeks. The thought of being caught being used like this sends a thrill of very sexy fear down Benrey’s backbone.

“Nevertheless, there’s something to be said for conservation of…” The voices of the arguing scientists fades down the hallway. Gordon lets out the moan he’s been holding in, right into Benrey’s ear. Benrey can’t get his hand around himself fast enough.

“Fuck….ah...fuck yeah, Benrey. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Gordon breathes. Benrey barely manages two strokes before he feels Gordon’s semen splattering against his thighs, the hot liquid almost scalding on his chafed skin.

“You weren’t kidding about 'a minute,'” Benrey says, turning around to face the now spent and mildly disheveled Gordon. He’s going to ask if he can try that leg sex thing on Gordon now, because damn, he seemed to be having a good time.

“Yeah, hah. I guess I-”

“WOOP. WOOP.” Black Mesa’s crunchy, computerized announcement system crackles just outside the door. “DOCTOR. FREEMAN. TO. ROCKET. LAUNCH. FACILITY. IMMEDIATELY.”

“Oh shit, they’re doing the launch test. I’m supposed to-” Gordon quickly crams his cock back into his khaki slacks. “Thanks, Benrey. See you later.” Gordon leans in to kiss Benrey, lips smacking the corner of Benrey’s mouth. He at least has the courtesy to shut the closet door on his way out.

Well, Benrey supposes he’s jacking off alone in a closet at work now. _No, this isn’t sad or pathetic,_ he thinks at the guy in the safety poster as he cranks his hog to the ghost of Gordon’s teeth in his shoulder. _There’s a dude who’s super into me, he was just in here and we were practically fucking, I swear._

Benrey will just have to get revenge after the test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 13 of my 102 part series, "They Sneak Off To A Closet Or Something And Fuck."


	8. Day 8: Leash and Collar- Tommy/Forzen

The credits of Homeward Bound are rolling. Forzen is still blinking moisture from his eyes when he turns to Tommy. “I’m sorry. About Sunkist.”

“What?” Tommy furrows his eyebrows at Forzen, then looks down at Sunkist sprawled across both their laps, tail thumping happily against the armrest. “Sunkist is fine.”

“I mean. I’m sorry about uh... the kidnapping thing.”

Tommy stares at him, a confused little smile pulling at his lips. “Forzen, I forgave you for that a long time ago. Do... do you think I’d be dating you for four months if I was mad about it? Sunkist loves you, too.”

“I know but...I still feel bad. I...I wanna make it up to you.” 

“You don’t have to.” Tommy wishes Forzen wouldn’t hold these things in for so long.

“I need to though…” Forzen bites his lip and looks away. His face colors in a way that Tommy has come to recognize indicates a very specific kind of desire, “Any way I can. A...Any way you want me to,” he mumbles. 

Tommy’s smile turns darker. “Well, if you really want to be punished…” He puts his hand on Forzen’s jaw and turns his face to look at him. “Maybe you can be my dog for a little bit.”

\----

“Down,” Tommy commands, pointing to the floor. Forzen had been sitting up on his haunches, but now he bends forward on his hands and knees. Tommy isn’t letting any slack in the leash, and the movement causes his collar to pull on the front of his neck. He sucks in a breath through his constricted airway, shuffling his thighs around his hard cock.

“No, more down,” Tommy clarifies. Forzen lowers himself further, choking himself further. He feels lightheaded, and not just from lack of oxygen. He lifts his gaze from Tommy’s shoes to peer all the way up at him through his eyelashes and the fringe of hair that’s been growing in over the past few months. 

Tommy laughs and shakes his head. “Allll the way down.” He lets the extra length of the leather leash fall to the ground, and puts his foot over it. Then he yanks up by the handle. His instep acts as a pulley, and the collar is forced down, bringing Forzen to the floor with it. Forzen’s cheek presses into Tommy’s shoe. He tilts his head to brush his lips along it.

“Good boy. You look so nice,” Tommy croons. Forzen’s brain hums with the praise. “All your muscles on display for me…” he drags long fingers over Forzen’s back, causing those muscles to twitch and quiver. “Such a big, strong man... brought down by a little leash and collar.”

“It’s...not the leash and collar,” Forzen says, voice weak from the strain on his throat. He wants to touch himself so badly but he knows he isn’t allowed. He settles for beaming up at Tommy instead. “It’s you.”

Tommy grins and crouches down. He hooks two fingers under the collar to lift Forzen back up. “I know,” he says, and kisses him. His other hand cards through Forzen’s hair, then forms a tight, painful fist at the back of his scalp. His smile is dangerous as he pulls back and says, “Did I... say you could talk?”

Forzen swallows. Oops.


	9. Day 9: Phone Sex- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short RP I did with [SutaMasque,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SutaMasque/pseuds/SutaMasque) who played Gordon, while I played Benrey.

After a few boring exchanges of "hey" and "whats up" and "not much," Benrey decides to change course. "wanna hear your stupid voice" He types into the phone. He hesitates for a bit, then hits Send. And since he's in it now, he doesn't wait for a reply before hitting the Call button. His stomach churns in nervous anticipation as he listens to the line ringing. "Hey uh. All alone in your sad hotel room? God you're pathetic." He says as soon as Gordon picks up. Projection? Who's that? Never heard of her.

* * *

It's kind of a slow morning. Benrey has been texting him for a while and Gordon has been lazily getting dressed between the replies. He's just putting his shirt on when his phone starts buzzing. It startles him a little bit, but Gordon figures he's not in much of a hurry so he picks up without much hesitation. 

"Hey, man." is all he gets to say before Benrey's voice cuts through. Gordon finds himself smiling despite the initial impulse to bite back. 

"The hotel is actually pretty nice. That Wikipedia funding can really get a scientist a good suite." Gordon doesn't wanna say it out loud, but the hotel room might be better than his apartment. "So uhh…What's up? Miss me already?"

* * *

Shit. Benrey hadn't thought this far ahead. "Yeah right. Been too busy for that," he says, hitting pause on the Switch. It’s been giving him an annoying pop up telling him to take a break every hour for the past 12 hours.

"Just making sure you're not. Y'know, stealing anything. Towels or um...little soaps." Benrey sets the controller aside, putting his full attention on the call. It's a bit foreign to him, he doesn't do a lot of non-gaming voice chat. "Cause if you are stealing, I'm gonna uh...getcha."

* * *

“Mhm,” Gordon hums, trapping the phone between his head and shoulder as he buttons up his sleeves, “You know the small soaps are there specifically to be taken, right? They do that to make the guest remember them and come back.”

It’s pretty obvious Benrey misses him. Gordon looks at the clock. There’s still a good hour before he has to leave, he’s just been anxious and decided to prepare in advance. Might as well mess with him a little.

Gordon sits down on the bed.

“What if I’m stealing something? How are you planning to ‘get me’?” he asks. He doesn’t plan on actually stealing anything, though the towels here are pretty great.

* * *

"Sounds fake," Benrey says dismissively. He fidgets a little on the couch, not knowing what to do with himself with no Gordon here to look at, only his voice to listen to.

"Uh... well... I guess I'd have to apprehend you. Put you on the hotel bed uh...face down so I could put your hands behind your back. Keep 'em from grabbing anymore towels." Benrey licks his lips. "I mean maybe if we could come to some kind of um....agreement I'd let you off. Wouldn't turn you in to the...the hotel cops."

Benrey's hand hovers indecisively around the crotch of his sweatpants. He's not sure they're even doing anything here. He would very much like to be, but the clock tells him its morning, and as far as he knows Gordon has some important shit to get to. He might have to wait till he's off the phone to jack it.

* * *

Gordon flops down onto the bed. Is this horny? It sounds kind of horny to him. But it’s on par with everything Benrey says, so it might not actually be. Gordon hums. Well, he’s either going to send Benrey on a tangent here or force him to change topics if this isn’t what he thinks it is. Good thing Benrey is exceptionally good at the latter.

“Yeah?” Gordon asks, the grin hearable in his voice, “Didn’t know I could bribe you into not reporting me to the hotel police. What could I possibly offer you? I don’t have money or PS+.”

* * *

Benrey's hand settles on his clothed dick, though he's not making any overt masturbation moves yet.

"Uhhh... bribery is illegal, man." This is difficult. He's never done phone sex before. If this is phone sex. "But uh. You got a lot to offer. Nice butt. Nice mouth. Nice dick." Might as well swing for the fences and make it clear. "If you're prepared to offer that to keep your illegal ass outta hotel jail."

* * *

"Oh so you'd accept sexual favors in exchange for a 'get out of jail free' card?" Gordon laughs. His hand slides down to cup himself lazily through the boxers, "Hmm, nice to know. I almost believed you were a good cop. All of that 'sir you can't come here, sir you can't do that," Gordon tries to imitate Benrey's voice and fails, it comes out a little breathy instead, "all the while I could just fuck you to keep you off my case?"

 _Fuck_ , he thinks, _smooth_.

"But let's say I am. You have me all to yourself." Gordon squeezes himself lightly through the underwear, his cock just barely stirring yet, "What do you do?"

Gordon swallows. He hopes Benrey doesn't hear it. This is embarrassing. He has never done anything like this before.

* * *

Gordon's laugh is always nice, but with the phone pressed to the side of his face... It's like Gordon's mouth is right next to his ear, even though he's hundreds of miles away. Benrey's cock jumps and he palms himself more openly.

"Nah...I'm a baaaad cop." He clears his throat. "But in like, a good, hot way." His brain is buzzing with possibilities. But it's hard to translate all that filthy stuff into words. "Might uh... grope your ass a little," he says, "Turn you over. See what that dick's up to. Touch it. With my mouth. Kiss. Mwah."

* * *

Oh right. Benrey's dirty talk is. Not good. But he can work with it. Gordon rubs himself lightly through the fabric as he thinks of what to say for a moment.

"Thought I was servicing you to cover up for my crime, not the other way around," Gordon says. He licks his lips, "Unless you want it the other way around. Wanna suck my dick? Want me to fuck you until you physically can't tell anybody?"

He's already hard off of the images alone. Welp, they are having phone sex after all, might as well go all out now.

"Are you touching yourself?" Gordon breathes. "You should be. Let's not take it from 0 to 100 though. I like it when you tell me what you'd do to me."

* * *

"Like I said, I'm bad at bein' a cop," Benrey admits. He feels his face heating up as Gordon describes another scenario. It didn't take much to activate Gordon's bossy side.

He swallows and nods at Gordon's question. Then after a moment he says. "Oh. I'm nodding. Yes. Touching myself." He pulls the waistband of the sweatpants down, glad he forewent underwear today. "I'd uh...y'know. Kiss some more. Lick...lick the tip of your cock. Tease you a little. Till you got mad at me and did something about it. Are...are you touching yourself too?"

* * *

They should probably fire you, Gordon thinks but doesn't say because that wouldn't be sexy.

What he does say is a long breathy "Good", not wasting any more time and sliding his hand under the band of his boxers. Gordon tugs on his cock, still kind of lazy despite how hard he is. "I'd probably... I'd probably push your head down. Press against your mouth until you opened it. Get back at you for the teasing. Bet a firm hand is all you want."

Gordon squeezes himself before pulling his hand out and pushing the underwear past his hips. He licks his hand before he answers, hand wrapping around his cock, "Yeah... Yeah I'm touching myself." He feels like he shouldn't be this desperate. Yet, Benrey isn't there to actually see how his own words undo him.

* * *

"Mmm. Okay. Yeah. Cool. Awesome." Benrey shifts, sitting down further on the couch, spreading his legs wider. He circles his fist around his dick, pumping up and down in earnest now. The thought of Gordon pushing him down on his cock is hot, but even hotter is the thought of Gordon, alone in his hotel room, getting off to just imagining Benrey and talking to him.

"I'd open up, take you in, all of it, lick it, suck it, swallow it. Make it real good for you." Getting into the mood seems to have somewhat improved his brain-to-mouth pipeline. "Uh... Guess I wouldn't be able to talk, huh?" Benrey holds the phone against his shoulder so he can use his other hand to put three fingers in his mouth. "Luh thuh" he mumbles, then "guk," he gags as he pushes them further along his tongue. As much for his own benefit of imagining the scenario as for Gordon.

* * *

"Fuck," Gordon sighs. Benrey somehow manages to make sucking his own fingers sound absolutely obscene over the phone. He actually wishes Benrey was here right now to make good on that particular fantasy, "I'd hold you by the head... by the hair, from getting away too far."

Gordon's hand works faster over his cock as he imagines himself doing just that, Benrey looking up at him all the while he'd fuck his mouth, "You'd look so good... Thought you'd apprehend me and use me," _for hotel crimes_ , Gordon's mind supplies, _for stealing tiny soaps_. He tries to banish that thought. It's sexy time now, "Getting used instead..."

* * *

 _I am using you. Getting exactly what I want._ Benrey thinks. "Ah mm usunh yuh...Guhuh. Zuckluh wah Ah wahn." Benrey says. He's drooling around his fingers, decides not to let the moisture go to waste. He switches hands, wrapping his wet, slimy fingers around his cock, moaning at the sudden change in texture, the ease with which his dick pushes into his tight fist. "Lo- like it when you pull my hair. Doin' it now. Ahh..." He grabs a handful of his own hair, closing his eyes as he twists it, listening to Gordon's breathing through the phone. 

"You're...such a good prisoner. So good at getting your dick sucked. Gotta get you off for g-good behavior." There's nothing that says these fantasies have to make total logical sense. "I'm fuckin' close Gordon," he moans. "You got somethin' for me? Cum bribe for Officer Benrey?"

* * *

Gordon got exactly none of what Benrey said. didn't his parents teach him not to talk with his mouth full? Does Benrey even have parents in human sense? Gordon shuts that train of thought down before he can get distracted. He works his wet fingers over the head and smears the precum around. The mention of Benrey tugging on his hair goes straight to his dick though, and Gordon throws the teasing away. He quickly spits on his hand and works himself fast, ragged breaths turning into open-mouthed panting.

He feels close, closer when Benrey keeps talking. Sure, the fantasy doesn't make total sense but it doesn't mean he can't imagine it this way either. It's kinda hot, he has to admit, in a backwards way. Benrey groans, Gordon lets out a sound of his own, feeling himself twitch, "Y-yes, gonna come..." The whole cum bribe thing doesn't even faze him.

Gordon has half-mind to roll his shirt up, before he's coming, holding his phone close to his face as he lets a drawn out moan out, it breaks into harsh breathing as Gordon rides out the remnants of his orgasm, stroking himself all through it. He tries to focus on what's going on on the other end.

* * *

Benrey tries to immerse himself in the constructed situation, going so far as to push his own head forward, open his mouth wide for Gordon's phantom dick as he listens to his panting and moaning. God, it's hot, Gordon's voice and breath crackling over the not-perfect connection.

His imagination goes wild as he hears Gordon come, picturing him writhing around on the hotel bed, totally wrecked. "Fuck...I want it...can...almost taste it.” _You could save it in...one of those tiny shampoo bottles. Bring it back...Souvenir...?_ his melted, horny brain supplies, but thankfully his mouth filter keeps it in check. He cums to the sound of Gordon's ragged breathing. He swears he can almost feel it in his ear as he groans lowly, not wanting to cover any of Gordon’s noises with his own sounds of pleasure. He shudders a little as he squeezes the last gushing drops out of himself.

"Hey...that was pretty cool," he says after a few moments of heavy breathing.

* * *

Gordon lies there spent, listening to the last moments of Benrey's harsh panting before he goes quieter. His sluggish brain barely catches onto what Benrey has said, but he finds himself nodding. Then, having realized that Benrey can't see him, Gordon finally speaks.

"Yeah that was... that was pretty nice. Don't get used to it though." 

Now he doesn't want to go anywhere. Gordon steals a glance at the clock. Still plenty of time left. He can still chill for a bit and clean up. "We could...maybe, y'know, reenact it. When I come back from the trip?"

* * *

Benrey grimaces at the gooey mess in his hand, looking around for something to wipe it off on. He ends up just dragging his palm across his sweatpants. He will definitely not forget to take these off and put them in the laundry as soon as he hangs up. 

"Uh. Yeah...could totally do that," he replies, trying not to sound _too_ eager. But damn if he isn't going to be playing this call back in his head on repeat till Gordon returns. "Bring me back a little soap?"

* * *

Gordon laughs softly, knowing full well why Benrey is asking “Yeah, yeah I will.” He pauses, “Maybe a towel too, y’know. That’s gonna be enough crime for you to work with.”

((I can picture Gordon stealing towels from nice hotels bc they’re nice, I had to))


	10. Day 10: Sex With Strangers, Overstimulation- Forzen/Female Black Ops Team (hotted boobs)

There are at least three hands on his cock, Forzen thinks. He can’t see to confirm because one of them is sitting on his face, her wetness spreading out on his cheeks as he runs his overworked tongue over her clit again and again. His free hand has two fingers inside someone else, curling and twisting to try to please her. The nimble gloved hands move up and down, around, teasing his crown, squeezing the base, thumbing his slit all at once. He isn’t sure how much more he can take, but he’s still got an iron grip on the empty SMG magazine he’s holding. If he drops it they’ll stop, and he doesn’t want them to stop.

Just when he thinks he’s going to come, or his mouth is going to shut down, she gets up and moves. The hands on his cock move. One relocates down to massage his balls, another to rub over his tensing stomach, fingers exploring the dips in his abdominal muscles. Yet another pair of hands spreads his asscheeks, each palm squeezing the flesh as they pull him open. Forzen gets a brief glimpse of them repositioning before one of them (the one he was just eating out? A different one? He has no idea.) straddles his chest and lifts her top. His eyes naturally snap to her round, athletic breasts, and then she leans down and practically smothers him with them.

They don’t talk, or make much noise at all aside from heavy breathing. It’s a little unnerving. Frozen isn’t sure how they’re communicating to move so well together, to not bump into each other as they all use his body at the same time. Maybe they’re using some kind of subvocal communication tech, or maybe they’re just that well trained to work as a team, though he wouldn’t have expected this particular exercise to be part of their regimen. HECU is never informed about what Black Ops is up to, anyway.

They keep their balaclavas and goggles on, and most of their black bodysuits, only exposing what needs attention from their plaything (that’s Forzen). If it weren’t for those bits of skin and moisture and heat that Forzen has direct contact with, he might think they were robots.

He’s sucking on a nipple now, glad to give his tongue a break, insomuch as doing something slightly different with it can be called a break. His dick is being held firmly from the base with purpose now, and he moans against the flesh in his mouth as his cock is enveloped in hot, wet, tightness. Someone is riding him. He instinctively bucks up into her, and immediately several hands appear to hold his hips against the army cot, keeping him from moving. The body on his dick clenches around him until he nearly screams, and she draws up and almost off of him with agonizing slowness before plunging back down. This happens over and over.

“G-...gonna cum…” Forzen mumbles around the breast in his mouth. He’s not supposed to but there’s not much he can do at this point to stop it. Just as he’s about to shoot inside of her, she pulls off, his cum flying into the cold, open air instead of its wet, warm home. The orgasm is ruined, unsatisfying as the stimulation is removed, and he hopes this is punishment enough.

Suddenly the press of hands and weight of bodies is gone. Forzen shuts his eyes and catches his breath, wondering if they are done with him, feeling a pang of disappointment at the possibility. Then he feels something nudging at his lips. He opens his mouth again obediently. He thinks he’s ready for more cunnilingus, maybe. But what sinks into his mouth is long and hard, the rubbery flavor of a military-issue tactical strap-on dildo gliding over his tongue. He dutifully sucks, opens his throat for the woman’s cock.

There’s a hand on his own cock again, tight and insistent despite his very recent orgasm. He whines around the strap-on, oversensitive and squirming. Another hand is at his asshole, wet, slippery fingers circling his hole and pressing in. His hand quivers around the magazine, his safety signal, but he doesn’t drop it, holds it tighter instead, curious and terrified and thrilled by where this is going.

After one last press at the back of his throat that has him gagging, the dildo leaves his mouth, though the hands on his cock and ass remain, leaving him moaning, hyperfocused on the too-intense sensations.

He opens his eyes and sees them all standing around him. Six of them? Sixty? He cannot honestly tell or care. Their hidden faces are impassive even as they openly stare at him. One of them is between his legs, scissoring him open. Another is sitting on the edge of the cot and toying with his dick, which is putting forth a valiant effort in getting hard again.

The two assassins touching him seem to pass a look between them. The one fingering him steps back into the circle of women and becomes immediately indistinguishable from the rest again. Someone walks into view from behind him, her hand pumping over the thick black dildo strapped to her hips, Lube squelches between her fingers and drips from the tip. The one pumping his cock continues torturing him while the one with the strap-on hooks her hands under his knees.

Frozen looks around for a sympathetic...not face...posture, maybe, as she slowly begins to breach him. But all he finds as he examines the women surrounding them, is that they’ve each got identical strap-ons protruding from between their legs. They’re just waiting their turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [INCREDIBLE FANART BY SUTAMASQUE!!!!!!](https://twitter.com/sutamasquensfw/status/1315660997638729729) It's killed me.
> 
> Not used to writing fem characters. Haha where did this even come from?


	11. Day 11: Glory Hole- Gordon/???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could it be?????????????????????????  
> Check end notes for spoiler.

Another boring day at the Black Mesa Glory Hole. Maybe Gordon has been doing this too long, but he’s honestly getting a little weary of the parade of dicks that make their way through the opening in the wall. He used to think he’d never tire of sucking cock, so the company-sanctioned blowjob station seemed the perfect way to let off some steam and improve his technique.

At first he’d marveled at the sheer variety of dicks that poked into his suck zone. Fat, skinny, long, short, cis, trans, cut, uncut, all colors and shapes. He’d had fun speculating about which cock belonged to which colleague (only in his own head of course, anonymity is a sacred policy of the BMGH).

But now, Gordon feels like he’s seen everything the Black Mesa workforce has to offer, genital-wise. He couldn’t care less which person belonged to which dick. He’s probably burnt himself out, spending all his free time cooped up in this stall, pleasing every cock to come along. And he’s been hogging a lot of shifts, it might be time to give other people a chance. Gordon resigns himself to taking an extended break from fellatio after today. It’s a shame, because there is one perk…

And as if he’s summoned it, what should push its way through the electrical tape lined glory hole but Gordon’s Favorite Cock? Gordon’s erotic ennui is immediately evaporated and he perks up. He doesn’t know what it is about this particular penis, but he loves it. It’s perfect for him in every aspect. The girth, the length, the uncircumsized head, the adorable, fuzzy balls. Gordon adores every part of this dick, it’s the highlight of every shift he spends here, and it’s a severe let down when it doesn’t show up.

Gordon gets to work, though he could hardly call this work, it's so much fun. He kisses the little beauty mark at the base and then licks it, feeling immense gratification when it responds to his touch, twitching to life and beginning to swell. It doesn’t matter how tired Gordon’s throat is, how sore his jaw is. He always has time for his favorite.

The cock thrums with heat in Gordon’s hand, veins popping up along the shaft as it hardens. It’s so lovely, Gordon thinks as he pulls the foreskin back to find the wet tip. He could propose to it, give it a cock-ring, marry this dick for life. He flicks his tongue over the tip, then presses it flat against the frenulum. His favorite cock quivers in response, pulsing as the person connected to it on the other side of the divider presses closer, grinding their hips into the wall.

Gordon puts his all into this, possibly his last blowjob on his most preferred penis. He takes it down to the hilt, wishing there wasn’t a wall separating them, wishing he could press his nose into the stomach of the dick’s owner, take it in even deeper. It fits into his mouth so well, like it was meant to be there. Like it was made for him. Gordon pulls gently and squeezes at the balls as he swirls his tongue the way he knows works well on this cock. He closes his lips around and draws off slowly before pushing back in, hard and fast, fucking his throat on it.

When it cums, twitching and spasming, Gordon licks up every last drop, laving his tongue over every spent centimeter. He wants to savor everything, the taste, the heat, the smell, the feel, the sight of it softening after Gordon has brought it to climax. He’s really going to miss this dick. Unless...

“Hey…” Gordon says, the first thing he’s ever said in here. He tries to disguise his voice, making it deeper than normal. “I… I’m gonna be taking a break from this for a while. So… I’m not gonna be in here. But…” He licks his swollen lips, feeling suddenly very nervous. “I really, really like your dick. So… if you… like my blowjobs… maybe you could wait for me in the breakroom in the next hallway over? I’ll uh… go to the vending machine and buy a… an RC Cola.” No one ever buys those. “That way you'll know it's me. You don’t have to, but… I’d like to get to know the rest of you.” With that, Gordon gives the head of the flaccid cock one last kiss, and sits back.

The dick seems to linger in the hole for a moment before slowly pulling back, and Gordon listens to the door on the other side of the wall open and shut. He feels strange; sad and nervous and hopeful all at once. He cleans up in the provided sink and leaves, walking with mounting anticipation towards the breakroom.

There’s only one other person there when he enters, and Gordon’s stomach does a weird little flip, but then it drops when he sees who it is. It’s Benrey, the shitty security guard who’s always giving him a hard time for no fucking reason. Seriously, he forgot his ID _one_ time and the guy will never let him live it down.

Benrey smirks at him, lifting his chin in acknowledgement. “Yo, got your ID for me today?” he says. Gordon scowls, doesn’t deign to reply. It can’t be him. Surely not. That would just be...absurd, like some kind of terrible romantic comedy. But with copious amounts of fellatio. But there’s no one else here. That means either the owner of his favorite cock decided they don’t care to meet Gordon, or it’s fucking Benrey.

Gordon walks over to the vending machine. He’s going to prove it’s not him by buying the agreed-upon soda. Benrey won’t get the signal, and Gordon will drown his sorrows in shitty cola.

“Hey,” Benrey says, suddenly right next to Gordon. “It’s me. From glory hole.”

“Huh?” Gordon hasn’t even bought the soda yet. Hasn’t even gotten the quarters from his pocket.

Benrey jostles Gordon aside, feeds four quarters into the slot, then hits the RC Cola button. The machine ka-chunks a few times while Gordon stares at him. “How-” he starts.

“I knew it was you this whole time,” Benrey says, running his tongue over his bottom lip. His gaze flits over Gordon’s face, then away. He seems a little bashful. “Didn’t know you were so in love with my dick, though.”

Gordon sputters. He can’t possibly deny it. Benrey has him dead to rights. “Uh…” Gordon doesn’t know what to do. He hates Benrey. _Hates_ him. But… he _is_ in love with his dick…

“So...wanna get dinner sometime, idiot?” Benrey leans down to get the soda out of the machine, his face suggestively close to Gordon’s crotch. Gordon’s own cock gives a little jolt of arousal. Damnit…

“...Fine,” Gordon sighs, taking the can Benrey is holding out to him. Maybe he can learn to tolerate Benrey, for the sake of his fabulous cock.

Benrey smiles at him, and it’s way cuter than it has any right to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Benrey again, sorry.


	12. Day 12: Body Worship- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: scars, scar worship

The HEV suit was never meant to be worn for so long. Its outer shell was made to withstand all sorts of hazards with repeated use. But the same sort of durability didn’t exist for the inner suit, the one meant to protect the user from the harsh angles of the outer suit itself.

After so many days of running, jumping, crawling, climbing, and all manner of other bullshit, Gordon began to feel a distinct discomfort around his joints. Anywhere there was a break in the metal to allow for bending and twisting of his body, there was a pressure and a friction that translated to a lingering heat and a dull, persistent pain. Gordon hadn’t thought much of it at the time. He had much bigger things to worry about.

The full extent of the issue doesn’t become clear until he finally gets to take off the HEV suit at the end of the ordeal. Gordon is horrified to see the angry red wounds all over his body. Scars encircle his limbs at every major joint on his arms and legs, and a few around his torso. Only some of the places actually have broken skin, bleeding and likely infected at his shoulders and, embarrassingly, his inner thigh joints. All the other spots just have shiny, raw, red flesh from repeated friction burns caused by the chafing of the suit.

It’s fine. Gordon can just wear long sleeve shirts and pants for a while. Not always easy in New Mexico, he'll will have to endure. But the wounds become scars after a few weeks. They aren’t going away. Gordon hates them. He looks like a weird, hairy ball-jointed doll. So he keeps wearing long sleeves, moves his shorts to the back of his dresser. He doesn’t want people staring, wondering, coming up with all kinds of weird theories about what happened to him, when the truth is probably stranger than anything they could imagine. It’s fine. This is just his life now.

It creates complications, however, when Benrey moves in. They’ve been roommates for a couple of months. They’ve been...something else for a few weeks. Gordon doesn’t want to dwell too hard on how quickly they fell into making out and getting each other off after Benrey suddenly returned from what Gordon had assumed was the dead. But with how fast things seem to be moving, his stubborn refusal to take off anything in front of the other man is becoming an issue.

Benrey is giving him a pointed look as he pulls his own t-shirt over his head, clearly indicating Gordon should do the same. Gordon tries to distract, deflect; he puts his hands on Benrey’s chest, pushing him gently down onto the couch. He sucks at his now bared collarbone, and Benrey’s attention is deferred, but only for a little bit.

He feels Benrey’s fingers sneaking under the hem of his shirt, and he’s dangerously close to the ragged scar tissue just above Gordon’s hips. Gordon tenses, and pulls away, readjusting the bottom of his shirt.

“Man, what the hell?” Benrey says, sitting up and running a hand through his messy hair.

“What?” Gordon says, like he’s not being weird.

“Every time we get freaky you’re all cagey about your clothes.” Benrey rubs at the hardness in his pants, and Gordon really does want to get at that hardness, continue what they were doing…

“We can still get...freaky,” Gordon rolls his eyes at the phrasing, “I just...would rather not be naked,” he says, well aware that this is not going to be a satisfying response.

“How come?”

“No particular reason.” Gordon really should think of a good excuse.

“Well I got lots of particular reasons for wanting to see my...uh...roommate’s hot body.” Benrey moves a bit closer. Gordon is afraid he’s going to attempt to undress him by force, but Benrey just puts a hand on his thigh, kneading firmly through his jeans at Gordon’s cock, which is indecisive about whether it wants to stay hard or shrivel up with anxiety.

“What if it’s not hot?” Gordon says, pulling the cuffs of his sleeves down around his fingers.

“Sounds fake. I like the rest of you already. Your hair sucks and I like that. And your dumb hot face. Doubt whatever your hiding under there could be worse.” Benrey says, giving him what would be a pleading look if Benrey wasn’t awful at it.

“I just…”

“Pleeeeeeeaaase?” Benrey whines, putting his chin on Gordon’s shoulder. His attempt at puppy-dog eyes is highly off-putting.

“God...fine, okay. Just shut up,” Gordon pushes Benrey away and grabs the hem of his shirt. He might as well get this over with now. He can only get so many handies and BJs with his jeans halfway down his hips and his underwear waistband pulled just under his balls. It’s way sweatier than it needs to be, and he feels like he’s missing out on the full extent of what they could be doing.

It’s better for Benrey to see now, Gordon decides. He can be repulsed and bail before they can get any further along in whatever this relationship is. Save them both the trouble. Still, he feels a sense of deep dread as he pulls his shirt off, revealing first the pale scar tissue above the waistband of his jeans, then the one circling his chest a few inches higher up. He hesitates for a moment, but he might as well go all in now, and shucks the shirt off his arms. He’s certain Benrey feels the same disgust Gordon himself feels when he looks at the bands of raised, discolored skin circling his shoulders, elbows, and wrists.

He doesn’t want to look up at first, to find the distaste in Benrey’s expression, but he forces himself to turn his head towards the other man.

Benrey is examining him intently, and Gordon can’t read him. He wishes Benrey would just tell him he’s gross already, that he doesn’t want to fuck around with him anymore. Benrey shifts, instead of moving away like Gordon expects, he scoots in, and takes hold of Gordon’s wrist. His thumb rubs over the scar and Gordon jerks at the feel.

“That hurt?” Benrey asks, lifting his fingers away.

“Uh...no...just...sensitive,” Gordon says.

“Oh yeah?” Benrey says, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He reapplies his grip and pulls Gordon’s arm closer, bending down to press his lips to the scar on the inside of his elbow. Gordon shudders, partially out of vicarious distaste that Benrey would kiss his ugly scars, but also because the feeling sends an exhilarating electricity up his arm, down his spine, right to his dick.

“Ff...hey uh...you don’t have to do…” Gordon starts. He doesn’t want Benrey to pity or condescend to him, or whatever the fuck he’s doing right now.

  
“Don’t have to do what?” Benrey asks, leaning in closer and licking his wet, hot tongue over the old wound on Gordon’s shoulder. Gordon makes an embarrassing little noise. “This?” His hands trail down Gordon’s chest as he dips his head to kiss and then lap along the band under his pectoral muscles, from the left side to the right. Gordon covers his mouth with the back of his hand before he can make another stupid sound. “What about this?” Benrey goes even lower, now laying on Gordon’s lap so he can lavish attention on the scar crossing Gordon’s hip-bone.

Gordon is all but shaking now, both from the stimulation and the intense surprise at Benrey’s reaction. Benrey gazes up at him with a much more effective expression of want than when he’d been begging earlier. “You got any more?”

Gordon can’t stop himself from nodding, and even goes to unbutton his jeans for Benrey. He is much less trepidatious as the other man helps him pull off his pants, and soon Gordon is sitting on his couch, hard and more naked than he’s been in front of another person in a very long time.

Benrey licks his lips, and then he’s licking the scar circling the join of Gordon’s leg and hip. His tongue dips down between his thigh and his crotch, and Gordon moans with need. He’s so close to his cock, but before Gordon can push Benrey’s head over to where he really wants it, Benrey is moving down, hands dragging along his thighs. He stops to kiss the bands above and below Gordon’s knees, then twists his head to lick the underside of said knee. Gordon makes another terribly silly noise and wraps his hand around his now-throbbing erection, since Benrey is neglecting it.

Benrey shifts to give the same attention to Gordon’s other knee, then continues his trek. He’s in a very awkward position, half hanging off the couch so he can reach Gordon’s ankles. He kisses and sucks at the scar tissue, this time licking all the way around, getting every bit of the shiny, fibrous skin all wet.

“Why the fuck are you doing this?” Gordon wonders aloud, because he honestly has no clue. Especially when his dick, which is not made up of weird, gross scar tissue, is literally weeping for the treatment his scars are getting while it's being ignored.

“I told you,” Benrey says, clambering back up to straddle Gordon. Gordon presses his hips up, but Benrey lifts his own to stay just out of reach. “I like all of your dumb self.” He kisses him, and Gordon can’t even be bothered that Benrey was just practically licking his feet. He opens his mouth and kisses back, overwhelming relief and fondness mixing with his intense arousal.

“I believe you,” Gordon replies when he pulls back, though he still doesn't quite understand why. “Now can we uh…” He nods down at his needy dick. Benrey looks down as well, tilts his head like he’s just remembering this part of Gordon exists. That wicked grin makes another appearance.

“No,” Benrey says. He slips off of Gordon’s lap and down onto the floor, kneeling between Gorodn’s legs. “I’m not done yet,” he purrs, and kisses the scar on Gordon’s knee again. Gordon trembles, reaching to stroke himself again. But Benrey grabs his arm.

“Nah,” Benrey licks his wrist scar, “I said I’m not done.”


	13. Day 13: Lingerie, Praise Kink, Dry Humping- Tommy/Forzen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't manage to get all four kink choices in there but I did pack 'em in!

“You’re doing...really well, Forzen,” Tommy says, his palms sliding up Forzen’s stockinged legs. He dips his fingers under the cuffs to pull the nylon away from the tops of Forzen’s muscular thighs. Then he lets them go and they snap back against his skin. Forzen lets out a harsh breath. “Being so still when… when you’re so hard for me.”

Tommy moves his hand to trace the tip of a finger up Forzen’s shaft, solid and leaking against the black satin of his lace-trimmed panties. He circles his thumb around the wet spot surrounding the tip of his cock, testing to see if Forzen will break, give in and move like Tommy knows he wants to. Forzen shudders, his erection gives a powerful throb, but his hips don’t move an inch, sitting steadfast astride Tommy’s leg.

“So disciplined. Such a good little soldier boy,” Tommy says, his hands traveling up to cup the other man’s impressive pecs through the matching bra he’s wearing. He doesn’t have to feel for his nipples before he pinches them, they’re already peaked with arousal, standing out against the shiny fabric. Even with this sudden and new stimulation, Forzen doesn’t move to gratify himself. He just grits his teeth and as he takes Tommy’s onslaught of teasing and praise.

Tommy wraps his hands around the back of Forzen’s neck, pulls him closer. “You’re so...so pretty, you know that?” He asks, smiling broadly at the red-faced man. Forzen flushes even deeper, his eyes flitting down in embarrassment. He gives a tiny nod, but that’s not enough. “Say it,” Tommy commands, lifting his leg a little to grind it against Forzen’s ass.

“I’m...very pretty,” Forzen mumbles, using all his willpower not to press back down against Tommy’s thigh. 

“Ohhhh, _very_ pretty, hmm?” Tommy replies, voice tinted with laughter. Forzen’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, clearly thinking he made a mistake.

“Sor-”

“Oh, n-no! It’s okay,” Tommy assures him, rubbing a soothing hand over the scars on his cheek. His other hand drags fingernails against Forzen’s scalp, making him nearly whine. “You’re right. You’re very, _very_ pretty, Forzen. Beautiful. E-especially like this… all dressed up and so ready to come. You are ready to come...right?”

Forzen nods vigorously.

Tommy laughs, with love rather than cruelty. “Well, go ahead then.” His hands trail back down over Forzen’s body, along with his gaze, which fixes on the satin-covered cock. When Forzen moves to touch himself, however, Tommy grabs his wrists, “Um...no hands, this time,” he says, and repositions Forzen’s hands to rest on his shoulders.

Forzen gives him a brief look of confusion before nodding, securing his grip on Tommy before tilting his pelvis forward to rub himself on Tommy’s pant leg. He gasps at the abrupt change in pressure, a low keening issuing from his throat as he brazenly humps Tommy’s thigh. Tommy holds Forzen’s hip to steady him, holds his chin with the other hand. He runs his thumb over Forzen’s bottom lip before slipping it into his open, inviting mouth, and watches intently, waiting with baited breath for him to come.


	14. Day 14: Edging- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Day 3, 4, and 6.

“Bro you look so fucking goofy when you’re about to cum,” Benrey says, his eyes raking over Gordon’s panting, sweating face. “You’re about to, yeah? I can tell when your eyebrows get all…” He furrows his eyebrows with a look of intense concentration, and Gordon realizes that yes, he is making a similar expression.

“Ugh…yeah,” Gordon says, though he knows it’s a mistake to tell him. This whole thing is a mistake. He shouldn’t let Benrey in the same room with him when the HEV suit is getting him off. He certainly shouldn’t seek him out when the suit decides his stress levels are too high and he needs a bit of relaxation. But that’s exactly what he’s done, and now they’re here, again. Nothing about this is relaxing. Especially when he sees Benrey’s hand drift down to his hip. And he knew, he _knew_ this could happen. And yet he’s not pushing Benrey away, letting him noclip and fuck with the suit until, just when he’s about to find his release…

“Reproduction. Simulation. Disabled. Rerouting. Power.” the suit says calmly, like it’s not the most frustrating feeling in the world.

“God…!” Gordon gropes uselessly at his crotch, well aware there’s nothing he can do. “I can’t fucking believe you,” he spits at Benrey.

“Really? You didn’t see this uh...comin’...haha?” Benrey says, leaning over him and holding Gordon’s hips against the creaky office chair he’s sitting in. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your precious nut. But I’m ah…” he smacks his lips, watching Gordon squirming against his grasp. “Not gonna let the machine do it.”

Gordon glares at Benrey with an anger that doesn’t quite bite, his dick giving a hopeful twitch at the implication. “Okay, so…” Gordon says, well aware how needy and impatient he sounds.

“Whoa, hey, eager much? Gimme a minute to prep, okay?” Benrey says, letting go of Gordon. He laces his fingers together and turns his hands outwards, stretching his palms and wrists. Then he takes his sweet fucking time cracking his knuckles one by one, while Gordon sits there and grinds his teeth. He could probably be more proactive, push himself against Benrey, rut on his thigh since he’s probably still noclipping. But some part of him relishes this, feeling out of control while he lets Benrey toy with him.

“Get up, my turn in the chair,” Benrey orders. Gordon does it, because maybe Benrey wants a better position in which to blow him, and he certainly isn’t going to argue with that. Benrey plops down in the chair, and before Gordon can start to feel awkward standing there in front of him, he wraps an arm around Gordon’s waist and pulls him down onto his lap. Now Gordon immediately feels awkward, straddling the other man as the chair gives a faint metallic squeal of protest.

“Okay, you ready Freeman?” Benrey asks, no-clipped hand resting on the inside of Gordon’s thigh, warm and promising.

“What do you fucking think?” Gordon bites out, though now that he’s backed away from the brink of orgasm he’s feeling a little more level-headed.

“Damn. So nasty when I’m about to be so nice to ya.” Benrey says. He slides his hand up to wrap around Gordon’s cock, which immediately perks up again. Gordon tries to find somewhere to put his hands, but Benrey’s arms are using the armrests, and his shoulders are broader than the back of the chair. He places them on his own knees, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s easy to ignore, however, because Benrey is pumping his fist around him, rebuilding the tension that’s been unwinding over the past few minutes of stalling.

“Fffuck,” Gordon groans, pushing his hips up into Benrey’s hand. It feels so different to have another person doing this, to be able to move against him. With the suit, it’s all attached to his own body, there’s none of that satisfying Newton’s Third Law feeling.

“You like that?” Benrey asks. “Say it.”

“Fuck you.” Gordon replies.

“Y’know for being so thirsty to get off, you’re pretty mouthy,” Benrey says. “‘Specially when I could take my sexy hands away at any point and leave you with nothing to stick your greedy cock into.”

“No...nonono, please,” Gordon quickly shakes his head. He puts a hand on Benrey’s shoulder, squeezing it to urge him not to do just that. “Yes. I like it, you fucker.”

“That’s a little better, I guess…” Benrey says. He tightens his grip, thumbs the tip, and Gordon can feel himself about to get there again. He bucks into Benrey’s hand, gripping Benrey’s arm and shoulder as he thrusts against him. Just a little more...he can feel it, almost there. He closes his eyes, ready to savor the orgasm.

“Not so fast, man,” Benrey says, and the friction is abruptly gone. Gordon’s eyes fly open to find Benrey’s smug face staring at him with hooded gaze, a vicious smile on his crooked lips.

“Now what?” Gordon grinds out, and grinds down against Benrey’s lap, though he can’t quite get the right angle.

“Dunno,” Benrey shrugs, “I was just thinkin’. I know how much you love your little robot suit and its built-in fleshlight. So I’m gonna turn it back on for you.” His fingers fish around in that particular part of the suit again. Gordon’s brain is starting to turn to mush, so all he can do is wait, and hope that Benrey’s going to let him come this time.

“Hmm...where was it?” Benrey mumbles as if to himself. Gordon feels his fingertips rubbing against Gordon’s skin, clearly not actually trying to do anything other than wind Gordon up more.

“C’moonnn,” Gordon whines “Please...”

“Okay, okay, if you’re gonna be so polite all of a sudden,” Benrey says, flipping the switch or connecting the wires or whatever the fuck he does in there.

“Reproduction. Simulation. Enabled. Libidinal. Response. Detected.” the suit says. Gordon wonders if it always felt so damn slow announcing its intentions before actually carrying them out. “Initiating. Reproduction. Simulation.”

“Aahh!” Gordon gasps as it gets to work, suctioning and pressing along his painfully hard length.

Benrey leans back in the chair, hands behind his head, watching quietly as Gordon is expertly pleasured by the machine. Sitting on his lap like this, Gordon is suddenly aware that Benrey is very much aroused, his cock hard and hot through his pants against the bottom of Gordon’s leg. Somehow he had never even considered what Benrey might be getting out of this whole situation. Maybe Gordon has been a bit selfish.

That sort of deep introspection isn’t actually available to his sex-focused brain right now. It’s instinct that pushes him to scoot forward, bear down and move his ass against Benrey. The other man lets out a long, deep breath, his hands moving back to Gordon, trailing down his sides, pulling him tighter against him.

“Fuck, Gordon,” Benrey says, voice breathy, and that alone has Gordon at the edge for a third time. Too late he feels his eyebrows knitting together, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to relax them, to not let Benrey know he’s about to come. Maybe he won’t notice, maybe he’ll be distracted, maybe this time...just a little bit more…

“Reproduction. Simulation. Disabled. Rerouting. Power.” The HEV suit recites again.

Gordon gives a near sob as he leans forward, pressing his forehead to Benrey’s chest.

"Told you I wasn't gonna let the machine do it," Benrey says matter-of-factly.

“Benrey...” Gordon begs.

“Hmmm,” Benrey hums thoughtfully, his chest rumbling against Gordon’s face. “You really want it, huh?” He’s still slowly rubbing up against Gordon’s ass, fingers digging into his hips.

“Yes, please!” Gordon says, anger and frustration giving way to something else, something like pure desperation.

“Damn, you’re so needy,” Benrey says. It sounds more like awe than annoyance or taunting. He pushes Gordon back up to face him. His pupils are dilated, and Gordon stares back at him, imploring him with his own eyes.

“I need it,” Gordon says, moaning as Benrey curls his hand around him again.

“Bet you’d do anything for it,” Benrey says, low and hungry. “You’d say or do any nasty, freaky shit I asked you to, if you got to get off, huh?” His palm moves over Gordon’s cock slow and steady, building up that sweet promise of release once more.

Gordon finds himself nodding shamelessly. He doesn’t care at this point what depraved thing Benrey has on his mind. He just wants to come, more than he’s ever wanted anything, it feels like. If Benrey says it, he will do it.

Benrey leans close, staring at him with an intensity that would frighten Gordon if he weren’t so far gone.

“Kiss me,” he rasps out, voice deep and hoarse.

Gordon does it. It’s almost a relief. Like he’s been waiting for a reason without knowing it, and this is as good of an excuse as any. He smashes his lips against Benrey’s, immediately pushing his tongue between them. Benrey practically devours his mouth as he strokes Gordon off, tight and fast. His other arm wraps around Gordon’s waist, holding him close to himself as he grinds up against him. Gordon has one arm around the back of Benrey’s neck, his other hand fisted in Benrey’s shirt as he kisses and practically rides him. The chair creaks with the rhythm of their efforts as the pleasure builds inside Gordon, hoping, praying for an outlet.

Gordon pulls away a fraction of an inch to gasp, “Gonna come,” despite trying to conceal it from Benrey the previous time. It's not like he wants Benrey to stop again, or maybe he does, maybe he wants this to last just a little longer. He has no clue what he wants anymore.

“Hell yeah,” Benrey pants, and captures his lips again. He squeezes Gordon’s cock and he’s coming, finally, _finally_ after being repeatedly teased and denied. He cries out around Benrey’s tongue, hips bucking feverishly to soak up every bit of warm, soft friction. It might just be one of the best orgasms he’s ever had. That’s saying a lot after he’s gotten so used to the intense, efficient pleasure of the suit.

He shuts his eyes, drops his head to Benrey’s shoulder, still trembling as he takes deep, shuddering breaths. The hardness pressing against his ass is receding. Benrey must have come too, and Gordon grins to himself, finding he’s glad for it.

“Man…” Benrey says, and Gordon turns his head lazily to look over. Benrey is examining his palm, which, thanks to the weird physics of his no-clip abilities, is dry and clean. “Gotta figure out how to get at that jizz."

Gordon gives an undignified snort of a laugh and closes his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha what no this isn't just Another Satisfied Customer but with orgasms instead of morphine that's ridiculous haha >_>


	15. Day 15: Mirror Sex- Gordon/Benrey

“Now _this._..” Gordon growls into Benrey’s ear, “Is the Reflection of Perfection. You, right where you oughtta be.”

Benrey honestly can’t help but agree. It’s a good look, Gordon behind him, leaning over him, pressing him down into the fake marble laminate of the theater restroom’s counter. Benrey hadn’t been sure the usual “pester Gordon until he snaps and pushes back” tactic would still work after the other man had killed him, but it seems the laws of Freeman Physics are still operating under normal conditions. Just like old times. Benrey couldn’t be happier.

Actually, he could, and he is when he hears Gordon unlatch the front of his HEV suit, feels his hard-on pressing against Benrey’s still-clothed ass. More like Reflection of Erection. Benrey twists in Gordon’s hold, trying to turn to get a look at it, because he’s missed it. But Gordon grabs the back of his head by his hair, keeps him pinned and looking forward into his own reflection.

“Look at you,” Gordon says, grinding against him as he gropes at Benrey’s belt. Benrey helps out because Gordon sucks at getting it undone. “You’re fucking gagging for it, aren’t you? Even after I killed you, huh?”

Benrey does look at himself, flushed and overwarm in too many clothes. He watches himself lick his lips in the mirror, eyes darting up to Gordon’s reflection. It’s really nice to both feel the force, the weight of Gordon behind him and be able to see him at the same time. Best of both worlds. “Yup,” Benrey replies simply, pressing back against him as he gets his pants down.

“Begging for my cock, just like always. Kind of pathetic, don’t you think?” Benrey could mention that Gordon is just as hard and ready for the guy he constantly purports to hate, that he murdered, and yet is definitely about to fuck yet again.

Benrey is nice enough not to point that out though. “Uh-huh. One fat Gordon cock, please, sir,” is all he says. Gordon does that incredible little half-stifled laugh, his domineering persona slipping momentarily. But then it’s back in place, his expression hardening as he pulls one of the HEV gloves off with his teeth and puts his hand in front of Benrey’s mouth.

“You know what to do then,” Gordon says.

Benrey does. He opens his mouth and slathers his tongue over Gordon’s palm, getting it nice and slippery. He observes himself, eyes half-lidded with lust, tongue lolling out and slithering over every bit of Gordon’s delicious skin. Does he always look like this, so brazen and desperate? Or is he just putting on a show for the both of them? He looks up at Gordon to find him watching just as intently, probably imagining other things Benrey’s long, supple tongue could be doing. Benrey feels Gordon’s erection pulse against his asscrack.

Gordon catches Benrey looking at him, and they share a moment of reflected eye contact. Gordon’s face reddens and looks down between them, “Hurry up,” he says, starting to pull his hand away.

“Now who’s begging?” Benrey retorts, grabbing hold of Gordon’s wrist so he can deposit a few more gobs of saliva onto his palm.

“I...got places to be.”

“Uh huh,” Benrey says, “Like inside me?” He winks and lets Gordon’s wrist go.

“Shut the fuck up,” Gordon grumbles. Benrey does and focuses instead on pushing his ass out more, laying forward on the countertop so he can see as much of Gordon through the mirror as possible. Gordon is slicking up his cock, and Benrey really is gagging for it, getting rather impatient as he listens to the wet slide of Gordon’s hand over his dick.

Gordon is impatient too, and in no time at all he’s driving into Benrey, pushing deep inside. “Guhh!” Benrey chokes out. He thought he was ready, but it’s still so much to take in all at once. It’s been too fucking long. It’s so fucking good. Benrey bites down on his forearm as he feels Gordon’s thighs press up against his ass.

It’s such a unique pleasure to be able to watch Gordon above and behind him. He’s clearly just as undone by this as Benrey is, squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating as he tries not to come right then and there. He must have missed it too. Benrey’s heart warms and his cock throbs against the counter.

“C’mon Freeman, you just gonna stand there like a dumbass, or you gonna fuck my brains out?” Benrey urges, and Gordon grunts, before pulling out and thrusting back in, reducing Benrey’s speech to an unintelligible mess. Gordon will never be able to truly shut him up, but he can temporarily scramble the message.

Benrey is transfixed, watching Gordon through the looking glass, sweating and flushed beautifully as he pounds into Benrey again and again, lost to his own pleasure. He wants nothing more than to feel and watch Gordon use Benrey to enjoy himself, forever and ever.

 _Hi Mirror Benrey,_ Benrey thinks as his gaze drifts to the reversed image of himself in the mirror dimension, panting and drooling as he’s fucked raw and hard. The Reflection of Affection. _Are you having as much fun as I am?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless otherwise stated, every story takes place in it's own separate universe with different relationship dynamics and HEV suit mechanics, don't @ me :v


	16. Day 16: Asphyxiation- Forzen/ Female Black Ops Team (Hotted Boobs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prequel of sorts to Day 10. I was told more female representation is needed in the HLVRAI fandom. So here's Forzen and the hotted boobs' meetcute :3
> 
> DO NOT. DO. THIS.  
> It's very dangerous.

Forzen dislikes field training exercises. Especially with Black Ops. It isn’t said outright, but the exercise is clearly more for the benefit of the elite stealth unit than for grunts like him. He’s just a pawn, a training dummy meant for target practice, but with a bit more brains.

He wouldn’t mind so much if he was still with his unit. It always feels safer when he’s with the other soldiers, and not just because it’s been drilled into him throughout basic training. But he’d gotten separated from them sometime in the night. Now he’s alone, low on dummy rounds (he may have wasted a few magazines during downtime, shooting at a tree he’d pretended was the vague concept of Irate Gamer detractors) and he’s beginning to get the distinct feeling he’s being watched.

Of course a low-ranking guy like Forzen isn’t equipped with night vision goggles, so he’s stuck squinting into the darkness as he treks through the brush. Can’t use his flashlight because it’s a dead giveaway, same with the radio and its loud squawking feedback. He’s wondering if he should just find somewhere to camp for the night when he hears a twig cracking a few yards to his left. He whirls around and points his gun into the wooded blackness, but sees nothing. There’s no point wasting more ammo if he can’t get a good shot, so he turns back and runs in the opposite direction.

Forzen is well aware that he’s making a ton of noise, all his equipment jostling and jangling as he crashes through the dense foliage, but if he can just get some distance, outrun them... There’s a vague, person-shaped ( _female_ -person-shaped) outline ahead to the right, so he veers left. A tiny glint of what he thinks might be goggles catches the light of the moon to his left, so he ducks right. He spots a large tree root protruding from the ground and dives behind it. Hoping to throw them off the trail, he tosses an empty magazine to what he thinks is the West. It makes a loud, satisfying clunk as it hits a rock somewhere in the distance.

As he crouches and waits, he realizes how hard his heart is pounding, hard enough that it’s difficult to hear over the blood rushing past his ears for any sounds of movement. He tries to breathe as deeply and quietly as possible. Forzen is more well-trained in avoiding loud gunfire and grenades, not dealing with the anxiety and uncertainty of being stalked by a nearly silent team of assassins.

He’s really lucky one of them stepped on that twig and alerted him, now that he thinks about it. He’s pretty sure they aren’t supposed to make stupid mistakes like that... That’s the last thing he thinks before the woman perched in wait for him on the tree branch above drops down onto his shoulders.

The next thing he thinks is _heavy, warm, tight_ as a pair of muscular thighs closes around his throat. He drops his weapon in surprise and lifts his hands to try to strike his assailant. She captures his wrists in her hands with a vice-like grip and rolls her body back. Forzen falls back with the shifting weight, ending up nearly flat on the ground. His head is in the assassin’s lap as she continues to squeeze his throat with her legs.

It’s getting difficult to breathe as she tightens her hold, and Forzen considers giving the signal meant to call off any training exercise if he’s seriously hurt. But the heat of her powerful legs and crotch around him is a rather nice change from the cold night. She’s looking down at him from over her breasts, masked face impenetrable, and something about the situation is definitely...stimulating.

Forzen struggles fruitlessly against her legs and hands, and for a moment it seems like she’s relaxing around him. Forzen takes the opportunity to suck in a lungful of air before she shifts her position, wrapping her right leg around his neck to hold his throat in the crook of her knee. Her left knee crosses her right ankle in a figure-4 position, then she bends her leg around her ankle to put him in a full leg-lock. A choked gurgling noise issues from Forzen’s red face, eyes bulging as he squirms in her hot, strangling embrace. Blood, unable to get to his brain, decides to reroute directly to his cock, and he’s getting erect with alarming speed.

It’s mortifying, but it only becomes more so when the rest of the Black Ops unit steps out from the shadows, watching impassively as their comrade chokes him out. Being observed like this only gets Forzen even harder. He’s not even sure what he would do if his hands were free, scramble to loosen her legs or unzip his fatigues.

One of the assassins notices his response, and signals to the others, pointing with two fingers to the tent between Forzen’s legs. The military close combat hand signal for "This guy's got a boner." The women take an immediate interest, stepping in close around him. Forzen thinks he’s about to black out, but the one scissoring his head loosens her hold as the team seems to be distracted by this development. One of them steps between his knees, and hovers her foot over his cock. They’re all looking at his face, heads tilted and questioning. Forzen can’t think of anything to do but give a weak thumbs up.

Two of them hold his feet against the dirt with their own shoes. One steps on his left wrist to keep it pinned down. Another puts an empty magazine, the one he’d tried to distract them with, into his right hand. Then that wrist is restrained too. The assassin between his legs presses her foot down on his dick, the soft, flexible sole rubbing up against him through his fatigues.

Forzen’s moan is quickly cut off as the woman closes her legs around his neck again. She bends back, stretching her body out to get more leverage with which to mock-murder him. If Forzen died right now and his soul left his body, he would be able to observe from above and marvel at the elegance and grace with which she holds herself up by her arms, arches her back, and squeezes the fuck out of his throat with her toned, spandex-clad thighs.

As it is, all he can do is struggle for breath in her crushing caress. An even deeper blackness than the night creeps around the edges of his vision as he pushes his dick up against the bottom of the assassin’s foot. Even as things begin to go dark, he revels in the incredible tableau of the silent women, so tall above him, looking down at him with anonymous, detached visages as he squirms in primal panic and pleasure. It wouldn’t be so bad to go out like this, Forzen's oxygen-deprived brain thinks. Better than getting shot in some stupid war he has no say in and bleeding out a million miles from home.

His sentimentality is brief, because the foot on his cock is pressing down harder, and he’s coming, the all-encompassing release made even more intense by the euphoria brought on by lack of air. And then the woman is releasing him from her leg hold, and he pulls in a huge breath. The relief is like a mild, bonus orgasm and Forzen relaxes, boneless on the ground and staring up at the assassins, panting with a truly stupid grin on his face.

He lets the magazine fall from his hand and they all seem to crouch down as one. Four of them each take one of his limbs, massaging his wrists and ankles. The one that had been stepping on his dick leans over him with a canteen, tipping water into his throat, which he realizes is very dry. The woman who had been strangling him crosses her legs under his head, and runs soothing gloved fingers over his scalp.

Forzen feels safe and calm for the first time throughout the whole mission. Maybe he can learn to like field training exercises after all.


	17. Day 17: Omorashi- Darnold/Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No wetting, just bladder desperation. Not used to writing this sort of thing so it probably doesn't capture that omo appeal.
> 
> This is extremely fluffy.

“Okaaay…” Darnold says, picking up his clipboard and clicking the pen on. “So we’re movin’ on to the Poison Apple flavor.”

Tommy rolls his chair from the cluster of empty beakers which had contained the Red Joyberry test flavors. “These aren’t uh...actually poisonous right?” he asks with a sheepish smile, looking down at the violently green liquid in the new set of beakers.

“Of course not, Tommy,” Darnold says with a light laugh. “If that was the case I’d find someone I like a lot less to test ‘em.” 

Tommy can’t help but smile at this subtle affirmation of Darnold’s affection. He sits back in the chair, getting comfortable for a new round of taste tests. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Y’know, you don’t have to swallow them all. You can spit them out once you got a good feel for the flavor.” Darnold reminds Tommy, indicating the unused waste bucket on the floor next to him.

“I know,” Tommy says, pulling Beaker PA-A towards him and swirling the soda around in it, marveling at how it seems to glow when agitated. “But it um... feels like such a waste of all your hard work to just... spit it out.” Before Darnold can argue any further, he tips the beaker back and pours the soda over his tongue, swishing it in his mouth a few times before swallowing it. “Hmmm. I definitely taste the apple flavor, but I’m not really getting anything that tastes like poison. So… Apple- 8, Poison- 1.”

“Hmm, I thought so,” Darnold nods and records Tommy’s ratings on the data sheet. “Now PA-B?”

Tommy takes a swig of the Flavor Obliteration Potion to clear his palette and repeats the process, taking down the whole glass labeled PA-B. “Wow. Uh… Apple- 4, Poison- 9.” Tommy shifts in his seat as the additional liquid settles into his stomach, and wonders if Darnold notices.

“Got it. Next?”

“PA-C” Tommy announces for posterity, and drinks the soda. “Apple-7, Poison- 5. And...there’s something else… maybe…” Tommy licks the inside of the beaker to get the last drop of flavor. He sees Darnold hold his pen a little tighter. “Fear?”

Darnold smiles. “Yeah! So glad you noticed. I thought adding a little mortal dread might enhance the poison notes.”

“Oh, it definitely does! Good job. Fear-2.” It doesn’t take long to get through the rest of the Poison Apple test solutions, and soon there’s another batch of six empty beakers in front of Tommy.

“Do you need to take a break?” Darnold asks, looking pointedly at how Tommy is putting his weight on one side of his body, then the other.

Tommy smiles placidly, lips twitching only a little as the accumulated liquid makes its inexorable way from his stomach to his bladder. “No... I’m okay to keep going.” He scoots over to the new set of brownish-grey-colored sodas. “RDC?”

“Rainy Day Chocolate.” Darnold says, flipping the data sheet to a new page. “Should taste like drinkin’ hot chocolate while you can smell the rain outside.”

“That sounds nice! I can’t wait. RDC-A” Tommy downs the beaker, smacking his lips “Chocolate- 4, Rain- 6. And...a little bit of Comfort? 2.”

Darnold smiles and writes it down. “Your taste is impeccable, Tommy.”

“You should know that already by who I choose to date,” Tommy says fondly.

“O-oh, well… haha.” Darnold laughs and looks down at his notes, hiding his bashful face.

By the time they get through the RDC set, Tommy is crossing his legs and squirming in the chair quite visibly. Darnold puts his clipboard on the table. “Tommy it really looks like you need to take a break. To uh...you know...pee.”

“Really, Darnold, it’s fine.” Tommy says. The feeling of his full bladder is definitely uncomfortable, but sitting here, having Darnold watch him while it gets more and more distracting, while said bladder stretches and presses against other areas… something about it is very appealing, in a forbidden, dirty sort of way.

“Are you sure?” Darnold says, frowning, eyebrows knitting together with concern. Even this is validating, proof that Darnold cares for him.

“Yeah. I uh...kinda like it…” Tommy says, face going instantly red as he shifts, uncrossing and recrossing his legs.

“Oh?” Darnold cocks his head in confusion. “Oh!” his eyebrows lift in realization. “Oh…” He gets quieter, his eyelids drooping in a _deeper_ understanding. “I see...well then,” He clears his throat, adjusts his trousers. “I...we can certainly continue but… I’d rather not have you distracted while carrying out this important test. We can use somethin’ else.”

Tommy nods and watches curiously as Darnold walks over to the lab refrigerator and pulls out a large beaker of pink liquid. It contains a lot more than any of the single test beakers they’ve been working with so far.

“Now, this is something I’ve been workin’ on.” Darnold looks away as he sets the beaker in front of Tommy. “For you, actually.”

“Oh, wow, really?” Tommy grins. It’s going to be difficult, but he will definitely drink all of this. 

“Yeah. I’m not gonna tell you what it’s supposed to taste like. So, just...tell me what you think and we’ll know if I did a good job.”

Tommy nods and picks up the beaker. He takes a large swig. The urge to urinate increases, but so does his arousal as his hips twist in his seat. “Oh...interesting. That’s Cranberry first, 7.”

“That’s right. What else? Darnold is leaning over him, very close and very warm.

Tommy takes a deep breath and downs another third of the soda. His stomach presses against his bladder, his bladder presses against something else inside him, and he lets forth a little moan. “Uh...Lemon Lime...5.”

“Mmhmm. Do you taste anything else?” Darnold asks. Tommy hesitates as he brings the beaker to his lips again. His body’s urge to not take in any more liquid is making it difficult. Darnold puts his hand on the bottom edge of the beaker and tips it onto Tommy’s waiting tongue, emptying the remainder into him.

“I...give me a second,” Tommy says, panting as he tries to find a comfortable position. Darnold wraps his arms around Tommy from behind. It’s a delicious embrace, and he feels wonderfully trapped and full. He wasn’t sure about the extra flavor, the unique feeling it gave him. But now as he experiences Darnold indulging and encouraging him, supporting his strange desire, the feeling increases immensely, and he knows exactly what it is.

“Oh! Darnold, it’s Love. 10!”


	18. Day 18: Blindfolds- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Day 7. Benrey's revenge.
> 
> Also contains some elements of monster/alien fucking, and excessive cum

“How did you get in here?” Gordon asks upon returning to his dormitory.

Benrey simply points at his vest, which is hanging on the post of the bed he’s lying on. Then he looks at where he’s pointing. “Aw fuck,” he mutters, and turns the vest around so the large “SECURITY” is visible. He points at it again. “Not like I’d need to be a security guard to get in anyway,” he says, stretching out on Gordon’s bed a little more. “How’d the uh...thing go?”

“The launch test? Fine, I guess. The sample wasn’t negatively affected by the rocket engines or anything. So we’re good to go for the actual launch next month.” Gordon says, hanging his labcoat on the hook near the door.

“Was it worth leaving me all alone and hard as a sexy rock in a closet with only a mop to kiss?” Benrey says, and Gordon pauses in loosening his tie to look at Benrey, who does indeed appear to be slightly miffed.

“Are you mad about that? I had to go, I was running late. You… you didn’t actually kiss the mop, did you?”

“You didn’t have to get me all riled up in the first place though,” Benrey scoots over on the bed and pats the sliver of free mattress he’s created. Gordon watches him warily.

“D’you… want me to make it up to you?” Gordon approaches with caution, beginning to pull his undone tie off from around his neck.

“Hey, what a cool idea. Don’t take that off, just come here,” Benrey says. Gordon sits on the edge of the bed, and Benrey grabs the tie, the slippery silk sliding along Gordon’s neck and making him shiver.

“What do you want me to do?” Gordon asks, pulse already elevated with interest.

“Just need you to chill out and go with the flow.” Benrey replies, sitting up behind him. He plucks Gordon’s glasses off and before Gordon can protest, the satiny fabric is placed over his eyes, completely obscuring his already blurred vision.

“Hey- uh…” Gordon says, hating how his voice pitches up with nerves, “What are you-”

“Didn’t even get to touch you in that stupid closet. So now I’m gonna touch you. A lot.” Benrey’s voice is on one side of him, then on the other, breath hot on Gordon’s ear. His own breath hitches as the tie is knotted at the side of his head and he lets Benrey maneuver him to lay down on the bed. He can feel Benrey crouching over him, and then he can feel him undoing his shirt buttons and his belt and his pants all at once.

“Sorry. About earlier. I was just really horny and…” Gordon says, his face heating up as Benrey exposes more and more of his skin.

“Uh huh. I get it. Just kinda rude is all,” Benrey replies, hands spreading out over Gordon’s bared chest, pinching his nipples.

Gordon gasps at the painfully good sensation, the arousal making his dick rush to get hard. If only Benrey would hurry up getting his pants down. Suddenly the fact that both of Benrey’s hands are on his chest, and yet he’s still undoing his slacks, and also removing his shoes dawns on Gordon, and his body is racked with the chill that something is very wrong.

“Wh-what?!” he near-shouts, and moves to undo the blindfold to see what the fuck is going on. Is there another person, or-

“Hey, it’s okay,” Benrey says into his ear, “It’s just me.” Yet another set of hands appears to hold Gordon’s wrists, keeping him from removing the blindfold. Despite the reflexive panic, Gordon is soothed by Benrey’s voice. “Just cool not human stuff, I promise.”

“I… I wanna see,” Gordon pants out, struggling against Benrey’s tight hold even as his nipples are flicked and another hand wraps around his freed cock.

“You can’t… like, I mean you actually aren’t able to. You’d freak out. Your shit would be all fucked up. Maybe forever.” Even as Benrey speaks Gordon can feel a set of lips on each nipple, another still by his ear, licking it.

“But…”

“Trust me,” Benrey says seriously, and kisses Gordon’s lips with one of apparently several mouths. Gordon does trust him, because he can’t even begin to imagine what Benrey actually looks like right now. Maybe it truly is beyond human comprehension. As much as his scientific mind craves to observe and study whatever Benrey is, he’ll have to settle for taking it in through other sensory avenues. He kisses back, arching his body into the myriad touches Benrey is giving him.

Now that Gordon has acquiesced, Benrey ramps up the intensity. Gordon's clothes are removed in record time. Suddenly there are hands all over him, rubbing his tense shoulders, squeezing and kneading at his ass, running through his hair, spreading his legs, massaging the soles of his feet. The back of Gordon’s neck prickles in the way it does when he’s being watched by many, many eyes. It’s been scientifically proven that this purported sixth sense doesn’t actually exist, but Gordon just _knows_. It’s all Benrey’s eyes, and the fact that they’re all focused solely on Gordon is incredibly hot.

He’s being kissed, his dick is being sucked, his toes are being licked simultaneously. It’s so much to take in, and Gordon cries out into Benrey’s mouth. Is this his main mouth he speaks to and kisses Gordon with normally? Gordon mentally corrects that notion. They’re all his original mouths, most likely, and the one he presents to the human world is a decoy or facade. Even trying to think about it in the abstract makes Gordon feel like his brain is stretching to the limits of its abilities. He tries to shut it off and just enjoy himself.

Benrey is making that easier by taking up every available sensory inch of Gordon’s body with mouths and hands, and soon, cocks. Just one at first, nudging at Gordon’s ass, already slick with something. Then another presses into one of Gordon’s hands. Gordon closes his fist around it obligingly, then the one presented to his other hand.

Yet another phallic object drags along his cheek, skirting his beard hair on the way to his lips. Gordon opens his mouth wider, letting it slide inside. It tastes like Benrey, feels like Benrey, and so does the cock in his ass and the ones in his hands. It’s all Benrey. He’s surrounded inside and out by the other man...other being. It’s like being gangbanged by one person and Gordon thinks he might pass out from overstimulation.

“Gordon, fuck, you look so fuckin’ choice, takin’ so much of me like this,” Benrey says, voice duplicated several times on top of itself. Somewhere in the back of Gordon’s mind it occurs to him that Benrey didn’t say “all of me,” suggesting that there could be even more if Benrey willed it. The idea is the last straw in the onslaught of sensation, and Gordon spasms, shooting his cum deep into one of Benrey’s throats, a shuddering moan squeezing past the dick in his mouth.

Benrey isn’t done, however. He keeps fucking Gordon’s mouth and ass, sucking on his neck and nipples, stroking his back and stomach and hips and legs and arms and feet and hair and everything, everything is being touched _so much_.

Gordon is near his breaking point, still dutifully jerking Benrey off and deepthroating him and thrusting his hips against him.

“Ah- Fuck, I’m comin’. Gonna be a big one,” Benrey warns. And it is. Gordon’s gags on the jizz flooding his throat, trembles against it filling his ass, squeezes around the pulsing cocks in his hands. Yet more cum splatters onto his chest and face. He even feels a distinct slimy wetness between his toes. Benrey gives an unearthly, multiplied growl all around him, and his dorm neighbor bangs on the wall for them to quiet down.

When Gordon’s brain resumes normal function he realizes the tie has been removed from around his head, he just needs to open his eyes. He does so slowly, cautiously, and finds Benrey sitting next to him on the bed, just as he was when he last saw him, but now in only his boxers. He’s wiping some cum off of Gordon’s chest with a tissue. Not nearly enough for the amount Gordon had felt. Gordon doesn’t know if Benrey used some sort of alien powers to get rid of the majority, or Gordon has just been out of commission long enough for him to get it all off manually.

“Yo, you okay, bro?” Benrey asks, placing Gordon’s glasses crooked on his face, then offering him a glass of water equipped with a Black Mesa Silly Straw.

“Uhm… I think so,” Gordon says, adjusting his glasses and blinking at the harsh fluorescent lighting above him. “I...might have to let you get revenge on me more often.” He sucks greedily from the straw.

Benrey rolls his eyes and tosses the tissue onto the floor. Later Gordon’s bare foot will squish against it on his way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. “Or you could just ask me.” He lays down next to Gordon and kisses him, and Gordon can taste a hint of his own cum on Benrey’s tongue. Is this the same particular mouth he came into? Do all his mouths merge into one when he’s in this form? Again, Gordon’s mind seems to creak under the weight of these questions, and he blanks it out in favor of the sheer pleasure of kissing the person he likes so much.


	19. Day 19: Mutual Masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of surprise voyeurism at the end as well.

"Hello, Bubby, dear," Dr. Coomer greets as he enters the room lined with its various instruments and monitors.

"Harold," Bubby says, the curtness in his voice detectable even through the electronic tinge the intercom gives him. Despite his tone, he visibly relaxes inside the tube set in the center of the room, floating a bit more placidly. Dr. Coomer smiles warmly and walks over to one of the security cameras in the corner. He unplugs the power cord, then repeats the process with the other two, though he gives the lens of the final one a knowing look as he does so.

“How was your day?” Harold asks, grabbing a chair from one of the computer stations and pulling it up to sit in front of Bubby’s tube.

“It was terrible, now can we please stop wasting time? I’ve been waiting all day,” Bubby crosses his arms, feet hovering a few inches above the floor of his confinement.

“No time spent with you is a waste,” Coomer says patiently, and Bubby’s flush is apparent even through the green filter of the slime he’s suspended in. “What was so bad about today?”

Bubby heaves a put-upon sigh, “I had to download a bunch of garbage about terminal velocity and it… made me think about falling all damned day. It was bullshit.”

Coomer nods in sympathetic understanding. “I see. A necessary evil I suppose, and not a pleasant one. Would you like me to help you relax?”

Bubby tsks, throwing up his arms, movement slowed by the shampoo-thick goo, robbing the gesture of some of its drama. “Yes! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Coomer chuckles indulgently. “Alright then, Bubby, why don’t you touch yourself for me then?”

Bubby is quick to nod, and he moves to undo his pants, shoving his hand beyond the waistband of his underwear to rub himself. He gives a sigh of relief, then a loud moan. He’s clearly been pent up.

“I love your enthusiasm, but please slow down.” Dr. Coomer says, authority creeping into his cheerful tone. “You don’t want it to be over so quickly, do you?” He rubs slowly at his own crotch, his cybernetic cock stirring to life. He nudges his chair closer, till his knees are touching the barrier between them.

Bubby gives a begrudging growl, and slows his movement, looking down at Harold hungrily and matching his pace. “Let me see,” he says, moving closer to the curved glass wall. When Coomer raises an eyebrow at him he adds, “Please.”

Dr. Coomer nods and shifts to unzip his slacks, scooting them down his hips to free his enhanced erection.

“More,” Bubby says, fingers working himself, trying to continue going slowly with straining patience.

“More what, Bubby, dearest?” Harold asks, teasing the head of his dick with this thumb. He squeezes out a drop of precum that sits quivering at the tip before becoming heavy enough to slide down his shaft.

“I want to see more of you, Harold,” Bubby says, voice low and desirous as he watches that bead of moisture roll down Coomer’s cock, leaving a slick trail of itself until it’s spread itself to nothing.

Coomer obliges, using one hand to unbutton his shirt, baring his thick chest and its lush forest of curly white hair. Bubby licks his lips, face nearly pressed against the glass as he strokes himself.

“Fuck, I want to touch you so badly.” Bubby whines.

“I know. And I, you. And we will when you can survive outside of your tube. But for now we can still have fun, can’t we?” Coomer says emphatically, reaching out to spread his hand out against the tube. He picks up speed with his other hand, sweat accumulating on his brow as he pants with pleasure.

Bubby makes a frustrated noise, but nods, and places his palm against the glass opposite Coomer’s hand. “I can almost feel it,” he breathes, eyelids heavy as he watches Dr. Coomer’s movements, appreciates his form and its glorious function.

“I’m here with you,” Coomer assures.

“Please, Harold,” Bubby pleads, moaning as he imagines that it’s Coomer touching him, that he has that control over him.

“Just a bit more, Bubby,” Harold says, drawing it out as long as he can stand to continue denying the other man his release.

“Oh... mmm... fuck... c’mon,” Bubby twists in his suspension fluid, but never moves his hand from the outline of Coomer’s.

“Come for me,” Coomer says with a much deeper timbre than before, and Bubby does, nearly shouting as the day’s tension releases so wonderfully throughout his whole body.

“Ah! Harold! Yes!” Bubby groans, continuing to rub himself through the duration of the orgasm.

“Bubby…” Harold breathes out like a reverent prayer, and jerks his hips. His cum, propelled by electronic augmentation, shoots all the way up to splash against the tube in front of Bubby’s face.

Bubby presses in to lick at it, but only gets a mouthful of green goo. He makes a noise of brief disappointment before closing his eyes to enjoy the afterglow. “Thank you Harold. You know I love you, right?”

Dr. Coomer smiles, and blows Bubby a kiss. He only gets these declarations from Bubby post orgasm, but that makes it feel all the more genuine, an admission when he’s most vulnerable. “Of course. I love you too, Bubby.”

He’ll stay a bit longer to chat, but for now he wipes the mess off the outside of the tube (though he lets his sweaty handprint remain) and sets about turning the cameras back on.

“Did you enjoy that as much as we did?” Dr. Coomer says mildly to the last camera before plugging it back in.

Somewhere else in Black Mesa, a man in a blue suit with a government-issue haircut watches the monitor, which has been displaying the camera’s feed despite the lack of power. He smiles and nods, rubbing his spent semen between pale, printless fingertips. “Why, yes...Dr. Coomer, I...quite think I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bubby and Coomer were both aware of and cool with G-Man watching c:


	20. Day 20: Sex Demons- Benrey/Gordon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very silly.

“Welcome. To the S.E.X. Mark 4. Protective system. For use in Spiritual EXposure rituals. Purification systems: Active. Sexual monitoring systems: Active. Demonic protective systems: Engaged.” 

Gordon stretches a bit in the S.E.X. suit, it’s fairly comfortable, but it shows a lot more skin than he’s used to. It consists of no more than a few bands of purified black fabric clinging to his body (easily moved aside in a few key places) and a small orange console on his chest, which contains the electronics that monitor his vital signs and project a mild protection aura.

He doesn’t have time to feel too self conscious about his ass-cheeks hanging out, he’s already running late as it is.

“Hey, Warlock Freeman,” says the enforcer at the door to the elevator leading to the Advanced Rituals department, “You got your ceremonial cockring, right?” His tone is light and joking, so Gordon doesn’t feel too bad when he lies.

“Yeah, absolutely, of course,” he says, thinking of the rune-engraved band he’d left on his dormitory nightstand in his rush to get here. It’s probably fine. He didn’t see anything about it in the 3-ring binder containing the Standard Ritual Procedures, transcribed and photocopied from ancient texts. Then again, he’d skimmed over some parts, it was really boring.

The enforcer lets him into the elevator, and Gordon stares at the large sign on the wall as it descends, "YOU ARE ENTERING A PURIFIED AREA. DO NOT BRING UNAUTHORIZED ITEMS INTO THE RITUAL CHAMBER" As if Gordon could sneak anything inside with such a revealing outfit.

He really is honored to be chosen for the summoning, a bit surprised, too. But he’s been assured that all the lore regarding the Demon Lord Benrey specifies his exact preferences, and Gordon happens to hit them all. As he often does, Gordon can’t help but think it’s fate that led him to work for the Black Mesa Occult Research Facility. 

“Ah, Gordon!” Magistrar Kleiner exclaims once the elevator opens onto the control room, as brightly lit and sterile as the rest of the facility despite it being a venerated area of worship and ritual. “Thank Benrey you’re finally here. We don’t have much time left. The planetary alignment will only hold for a while longer,” he says, checking the computer monitor displaying a real-time representation of the solar system.

“Uh, yeah sorry. There was something going on with the trams,” Gordon says, as if he didn’t also oversleep. He glances through the observation window into the Summoning Chamber. It looks like most of the elements are in place, though it’s hard to see clearly through the haze of incense. 

“Yes, well, let’s not waste any more time.” Kleiner says.

“They’re waiting for you Gordon,” intones one of the priests nearby, “In the Summoning Chamber….”

“Oh really, there’s no need to be so ominous, Frederick,” Magistrar Kleiner snaps, “Stick to double-checking the ritual components. Gordon, get a move on!”

Gordon does, heading down a shorter elevator to get to the Summoning Chamber.

“I’m afraid we’ll be deviating a bit from standard evocation procedures today Gordon,” says the warlock outside the door, “But if you adhere to standard insertion procedures, we’ll guide you through the rest and everything should be fine.” Gordon nods, flushing a bit as the warlock eyes him up and down before opening the door. Luckily he doesn’t have time to check for the cockring Gordon forgot.

Gordon enters and squints through the smoke, trying not to sneeze as the scent of incense assaults his nose.

“Gordon, can you hear me?” Magistrar Kleiner says over the intercom.

“Yes!” Gordon shouts up, coughing when he inhales a lungful of sweet-perfumed air.

“Good. We’ll need you to light the candles on the five points of the sigil. Careful not to disturb the summoning circle!” 

Gordon steps over the precisely laid salt barrier and onto the sigil etched into the ground. It looks a bit like a vertical P perpendicularly intersected with a horizontal S, and a cross symbol off to the side. This is Benrey’s sigil, worn by all the members of the Black Mesa cult and plastered all over the facility. Gordon switches on the flickering black LED candles once by one, then gives a thumbs up to the observation window.

“Well done. Dimming the lights. We’ll begin the incantation presently. The idol phallus is being delivered to you now.” Kleiner instructs, then reminds Gordon, “Standard insertion procedure.”

Gordon has been running on rushed autopilot so far, but now that he’s here in the chamber, lit only by candles and shrouded in smoke, the reality of the situation is beginning to sink in. Finally they will be able to summon and speak with their Demon Lord Benrey, obtain his wisdom and better understand and carry out his will. And Gordon is the sexual offering chosen to entice him.

“Oh, Lord Benrey,” Magistrar Kleiner drones over the intercom, “By your grace, we entreat thee to manifest before us and give us true and most faithful answer…” A platform rises nearby, presenting the ceremonial idol phallus. Gordon picks it up, feeling the cold, hard girth in his hands, the representation of Lord Benrey, thick, huge and veiny. 

Gordon gets comfortable on the ritual mat in the center of the sigil, spreading his legs. Standard insertion procedure. Gordon may not have studied the ritual enough to know it by heart, but this part he’s practiced many times in his dormitory. A bowl of strong smelling anointing oil sits next to the mat, and Gordon dips his hand into it.

There’s an indescribable change in the air as Gordon spreads the oil over the dildo, imagining it’s the actual cock of his Demon Lord. Visualization is important. “We bring you this offering that you might find us worthy, that you might gift us with your presence. Take your pleasure that we may take your wisdom…” Kleiner recites.

Gordon hopes no one notices his ringless cock as he moves the band of his S.E.X. suit aside. He begins to stroke himself and tries to relax as he pushes the idol phallus into his ass. It’s cold and slimy, Gordon tries to pretend it’s warm and alive as he begins to pump it in and out. 

“Please accept this sexual offering we so humbly present, grace our material world with your all-powerful presence…” Kleiner’s voice fades away as Gordon closes his eyes, focusing entirely on the dildo sliding in and out of him. He moans aloud, another element of the offering, willing Benrey to notice him, to desire him, to come to him. 

The stone is warming up naturally inside of him, but suddenly it’s not just warm, it’s hot, it’s pulsing, and it’s moving on its own. Gordon gasps, letting go of it and writhing on the mat as the phallus does a better job of stimulating him than he can do himself. It feels so good, better than anything he’s ever felt.

Warm, heavy hands suddenly grasp his shoulders and Gordon makes a surprised squeak, and opens his eyes. He’s met with many yellow, inhuman eyes looking back down at him from the darkness, and he immediately seizes up in reflexive, human fear. 

“Hello, hot stuff,” says a deep, reverberating voice, and all the eyes seem to coalesce into two as the figure above him leans down, a grey, leering face forming with a wide, razor-toothed grin. The idol phallus has transformed, it _is_ Lord Benrey now, and the rest of him is here as well, nearly twice the size of a normal human, fucking Gordon and calling him ‘hot stuff’. 

“You idiots forgot the blood sacrifice,” Benrey growls, and tilts his head, opening his mouth to suck and bite at Gordon’s neck, hard enough to draw the blood.

“That’s not...ah! In the pro-procedure!” Gordon moans as Benrey tilts his hips and presses directly on his prostate. “D-don’t stop!” He wraps his arms around the back of the demon’s neck

“Blood good. Update the procedure,” Benrey says, licking his lips clean of Gordon’s blood and looking into his eyes again. “Fuck, you’re a sexy one. Too bad you’re probably gonna die.”

“The S-SEX suit is supposed to...protect me. Ffffrom demonic...ahhh!” Gordon pants out, 

“You guys have made some uh... real scientific advancings huh?” Benrey says, lapping at the blood leaking from the bite on Gordon’s neck. He pushes Gordon’s hand away from his cock and curls his own around it, drawing more and more noises of ecstasy from Gordon. “Niiice, ‘specially if I get to hear that cute voice some more.”

“Readings are good…” Kleiner’s voice comes over the intercom, but Gordon could hardly give a shit about the ritual anymore, he just wants to keep fucking this incredible, infernal being.

“Mmn, can’t wait to see you come. You got a lil’ human jizz to sacrifice for your Demon Lord?” Benrey asks, thrusting harder into Gordon. Gordon nods eagerly. He wants nothing more than to cum for the object of his worship. Benrey groans and fucks him harder.

“Wait...is...is he not wearing the ceremonial protective cockring?” Kleiner’s voice suddenly sounds panicked. “Oh my- without it, if he orgasms, i-if Lord Benrey accepts semen that hasn’t passed through the purifying ring- oh, Hell!” Gordon is too far gone to grasp what Kleiner is saying, and even if he could, it would be very difficult to care enough to keep himself from chasing the peak Benrey is pushing him towards.

“Shut it down!” 

“I can’t!” 

“We’re doomed!” 

Cultists are shouting outside the ritual chamber as Gordon stares into those demonic eyes, as Benrey fucks him so perfectly, strokes him so sweetly, leans down and kisses him with a supernaturally long tongue. Gordon is coming, impure semen splattering up onto Benrey’s stomach. 

Gordon can barely hear the explosions and screaming as he rides the feeling, rides Benrey, rides his God. A low, bone-rattling rumble issues from deep inside Benrey, and Gordon is being filled with hellish cum, hot as lava and wonderful. This is the part that would kill him if not for the suit. As it is, he’s able to fully enjoy the seed of a high ranking demon defiling his insides.

When Gordon can think again, the sounds of far away explosions becomes apparent, and Gordon has the ability to comprehend that it’s probably a bad thing. He looks up to the observation window, which seems to be on fire, a cultist is hanging over the edge, clearly dead.. 

“Yo uh...I think you fucked up,” Benrey says. He’s almost normal sized now, and inexplicably dressed in one of the dark blue enforcer’s robes. “Let through a bunch of low level demons and shit.” 

“Wh-me!? I couldn’t- I don’t have that kind of-” Despite his protests, Gordon has a feeling that this probably actually is his own fault, what with the cockring fuckup. He attempts to sit up, but his ass is rather sore and he flops back down with a groan. Benrey gives a chuckle that sends a thrill of renewed arousal through Gordon. 

“Should probably get you outta here. Not safe for a squishy lil’ mortal. Buncha hellhounds out lookin’ for meat.” He scoops Gordon up in clawed hands, and Gordon instinctively hooks an arm around Benrey’s shoulder to hang on. “Hey, can I keep you? First human I boned that didn’t croak right after. Should be good to screw without your Fuck Suit now too. ‘Noculated or whatever.”

Well, Gordon thinks, he’s probably in big trouble with the cult after this. Might as well. Even if his Demon Lord is a little more irritating than he’d imagined.


	21. Day 21: Somnophilia, Facefucking- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite traditional somnophilia, as I understand it, more not-exactly-realistic sleepwalking sex.

Benrey is ass-deep in his game of Quantum Theory while Gordon is asleep in the bedroom. It sucks having to keep the volume almost on mute, but dumb human brain need sleep, so he’ll deal. He’s almost to a checkpoint when he notices out of the corner of his eye that Gordon is standing next to the couch. “Can’t sleep? Me neither join the club, haha,” Benrey says, not moving his head from the armrest or taking his eyes off the game.

Suddenly Gordon is on top of him, straddling him. Benrey sits up a little, surprised, but Gordon pushes him back with insistent hands on his shoulders.

“Whoa, uh...hey,” Benrey says, eyes immediately zeroing in on Gordon’s boxers, tented with an extremely prominent erection. Cool. Very cool. His gaze drifts up to Gordon’s face to find his eyelids are nearly closed, his eyes twitching underneath, moving around. Oh. He’s still asleep.

Gordon had mentioned this, new medication or something that could cause sleepwalking. He’d told Benrey to wake him up if he did anything weird or dangerous or stupid. Of course Benrey had asked what if he tried to get in Benrey’s pants while he was asleep. Gordon had blushed and said that probably wasn’t going to happen. But after a few moments, when Benrey had thought the subject was dropped, Gordon had added that if it did, Benrey should feel free to go ahead and participate, if he wanted. Benrey had asked if he was being for real, and while Gordon had nodded, he refused to elaborate.

And now here they are, Gordon still off snoozing in dreamland with his dick hard and practically shoved in Benrey’s face. Very, very cool. Benrey smiles and drops the Dualshock controller on the floor. He gently pulls Gordon’s boxers down, not wanting to make any sudden movements. “Gonna suck your dick, okay?” he says softly, and leans forward, pressing his lips to the tip and flicking his tongue out in a teasing motion.

He feels Gordon’s fingers slide into his hair, then tighten into fists. The tension against his skull sends a sexy signal right to his dick and he shifts, trying to rub up against Gordon. But Gordon lifts his hips away from Benrey’s lap, and then he literally shoves his cock into Benrey’s mouth, making him gag against the sudden intrusion.

“Guhk-” Benrey chokes on the hot, solid flesh, trying to open his throat for Gordon and adjust. But Gordon isn’t waiting. He pulls back on Benrey’s head as he pulls his hips out, then slams them back together, causing Benrey to gag yet again.

This is new. Gordon is usually quite passive with this kind of thing, taking a more hands off approach and letting Benrey run the rodeo. But now, sleeping, dreaming, Gordon appears to know exactly what he wants, and it’s to fuck Benrey’s face as hard as he can, pushing deep into his throat, lingering for a fraction of a second in the tightness caused by Benrey’s reflexes, and then roughly pulling out and thrusting back in, again and again.

Benrey’s mouth is filling up with drool, which begins to spill out over his lips, providing a smoother entrance for Gordon’s efforts. Gordon moves his legs, getting more leverage by putting a knee on Benrey’s thigh. It’s so close to rubbing against Benrey’s stiff, full cock, but isn’t quite there. It’s clear this is all about Gordon’s pleasure, Benrey is little more than a hole providing him with warmth and friction. This realization only gets Benrey hotter, harder, more desperate to give Gordon what he wants.

Benrey looks up with tear-blurred eyes into Gordon’s impassive, unseeing face. He’s so _quiet_ except for the occasional low grunt of exertion or appreciation, so _demanding_ with his hands and hips and cock, so fucking _hot_. It’s a side of Gordon that Benrey has always suspected was there. Freeman likes to talk a big game, but when it comes to sex, he usually leaves it up to Benrey to take charge, maybe too embarrassed to be direct about what he wants. This makes it obvious that he has very strong desires, and Benrey is all too happy to cater to them. He puts a hand on Gordon’s hip, fingers squeezing appreciatively at his ass as he continues to let Gordon take his mouth for his own.

* * *

It’s a good dream. Gordon is never this dominant in real life. He would like to be, sometimes, but he always gets caught up in his head over it; anxiety about whether he’ll be bad at it, be too selfish, ask for too much, drive his partner away. But when he’s asleep, Gordon can be as rough as he likes, no one is going to judge him in a dream. This is one of the best sex dreams he’s ever had. It’s so good, so warm, so real. Then there’s a hand on his ass, squeezing, and Gordon opens his eyes.

“Wha-!?” he blurts out when he sees Benrey below him, moisture leaking from his mouth, nose and eyes as Gordon repeatedly shoves his cock into him. It felt so real because it _is_ real, he’s really pulling Benrey’s mouth onto his dick over and over. Part of him is mortified. He’s never so rough, so selfish.

But another part of him, the part that sleepwalked him out here and into this facefucking, the part that is still in control, absolutely loves this. The power he seems to have over Benrey in this moment, over his mouth and voice and body feels _amazing_. Gordon can’t stop now, not when he’s so close. What’s more, he’s pretty sure Benrey could stop this at any point, he’s much more powerful than Gordon. But he’s allowing this, eagerly letting Gordon use him to his own ends. Letting Gordon pull his hair, fuck his mouth, gag him repeatedly despite his reflexive tears and the discomfort it must cause.

Gordon leans in, metaphorically and physically. He presses hard into Benrey’s mouth, holding Benrey’s face tight to his pelvis as he lets loose his powerful orgasm into him. He breathes out a shuddering moan, keeping Benrey close against him until the last drop drips down the other man’s throat. Benrey’s muscles contract around the head of Gordon’s cock, and he trembles, suddenly overstimulated. He pushes Benrey away and falls back to sit on Benrey’s legs. Gordon stares at him, one hand over his mouth in shock, breathing hard. He's totally blindsided by the reality of what’s just happened.

Benrey wipes his grinning mouth with the back of his hand, clears his throat, and blatantly rubs at his erection through his sweatpants. “G’morning,” he says, voice hoarse from rough treatment.

Dazed, speechless, Gordon looks at the clock hanging on the wall. It’s 11:38 PM.


	22. Day 22: Sounding- Forzen/ Female Black Ops Team (Hotted Boobs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Days 10 and 16. I am getting more and more obsessed by Forzen being owned by a harem of hotted boobs.

Forzen puts the sign in his window a few days after he moves into his civilian apartment, though he doesn’t know if there’s any point. It’s pretty innocuous, just an X made of electrical tape in the corner of the front window. In his enlisted days, he’d put it on his backpack when he was available for... stuff. No one would give it a second glance unless they were looking and knew what it meant. But Forzen doesn’t know if anyone is looking anymore. He doesn’t know if they survived the incident in the first place, or if they care to seek him out. If they did, and if they do, he’s certain they have the means to hunt him down.

Despite the unlikeliness that anything will happen, Forzen still has that same feeling he gets whenever he puts up the signal; that same fear and excitement that he’s not safe. That at any point he could be beset upon by a flurry of black-clothed, very able bodies. He gets hard throughout the day just thinking about it, though the longer he waits the more he thinks it’s a lost cause. He should just give up, jack off, and go to sleep. But what if he does and they show up? He doesn’t want to have less than his maximum... ability. Doesn’t want to disappoint.

It’s late. Like, really late, getting more towards morning than the dead of night, when he would most expect them. He’s been sitting up on the couch, watching old episodes of Haunted Investigators, feeling like an idiot for holding out hope. It’s not even worth jacking off at this point. He’s just going to nod off here on the couch…

He almost thinks it’s a dream when a gloved hand covers his mouth. He doesn’t even have time to think about struggling.

Before he really grasps what’s going on, he’s already stripped and tied up, set on his shitty coffee table across from his couch where the Black Ops team is sitting, watching. They’re not as equipped as they had been when Forzen saw them in the field, though they're still fully dressed head-to-toe in skin-tight dark fabric. No goggles, but their eyes are still obscured by dark mesh. No ammo pouches, but they still have knives clipped to their belts. The familiar weight of an empty magazine is in his hand, which is bound behind his back. Forzen tries to tell them he’s really glad to see them, but the gag in his mouth reduces it to a few unintelligible mumbles. His rock-hard erection should be proof enough.

There are fewer of them, he realizes as he takes the group in, and the implications of that are not something he wants to think about. Even though he was never really able to tell one of them from another, he still feels a keen pang of loss.

One of them leans forward and lays a black case next to him on the coffee table. She unfolds it, revealing a series of shiny silver rods, each thicker than the last. Frozen swallows heavily around his gag. United States Military-grade urethral sounds. He twists in excited dread as the woman hovers a hand over the thinnest one, the thickness of a USB cable, then slides over to the largest one, the size of a beginner’s dildo. Forzen furiously shakes his head, and two of the women sitting on the couch look at each other as if sharing a silent laugh.

Thankfully, she selects the second smallest rod, holding it up for the rest to see. It catches the light from the kitchen, the reflection shining into Forzen’s eyes. They all nod approvingly and some of them stand up. One moves to stand behind Forzen, gripping his shoulders. Warm and comforting. Familiar, even though he doesn’t even know what she looks or sounds like. Another kneels down between his spread legs, gripping the base of his cock. Yet another approaches with a bottle of surgical lubricant. Two of them remain on the couch, watching.

Frozen’s brain revs up with instinctive panic as he watches the lube squeeze out onto the tip of the sound, oozing its way down the length of it. He squirms in terrified anticipation, but keeps a tight grip on the magazine. He doesn’t want to drop it by accident. The hands on his shoulders hold him steady, as do the hands on his cock and balls.

He lets out little fearful moans through his gag as she turns the sound over, letting the excess lube drizzle onto the tip of his cock, mixing with the precum leaking from the slit. The hands hold him tighter as she dips the rod down, dragging it across the head of his dick once, twice, circling around the opening, getting closer and closer.

Forzen’s eyes are locked on what’s happening, but in his periphery he can see the two team members on the couch have moved closer to one another, are touching one another, running hands over each other’s thighs and breasts and stomachs. He’s distracted, looks up to watch them as one nuzzles against the other’s neck, squeezing her breast through her clothes.

But then he’s brought right back to his dick as it’s invaded by cold metal. She doesn’t shove it in as he might have expected. Rather, she lets it fall gradually, sliding slowly between her fingers and into him. Gravity does most of the work as the heavy rod pushes through his resisting flesh. It’s unlike anything Forzen has felt before, and he can’t decide how he feels about it. It’s painful and incredible at the same time. This is typical of his encounters with the Black Ops team, just in an entirely new way. He groans, watching the sound disappear into his shaft, something that seems so impossible, and yet it’s definitely happening, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

One of them squeezes his cock, and he nearly shouts at the sensation of pressure from both inside and outside. The one holding the sound pulls it up again and Forzen’s brain reels with bizarre pleasure. She lets it fall back, all the way down and Forzen wishes he didn’t have the gag in, so he could pull more air into his lungs, so he could scream.

Then they pull away, all of them, and move back to the couch. The two that had been getting touchy with each other have progressed since Forzen was focused on the metal in his cock. One of them is lying back on Forzen’s sofa, leggings off while the other kneels between her legs, arms hooked around her thighs. She must have pulled the bottom of her mask off if she’s doing what Forzen thinks she’s doing. He can’t see behind the other one's thigh, and this is probably to preserve her anonymity. Forzen also knows this display isn’t entirely for his benefit, so he doesn’t get to see the full picture.

So he takes in what he can from his limited position, bound, gagged, and untouched except for the sound stuck in his urethra. It moves with every twitch of his cock, and if he tightens his pelvic muscles he can push it out a bit, and then relax to let it fall back in. It’s almost unbearable, but he can’t help but repeat the movement again and again. It’s the only physical stimulation he’s getting.

There’s plenty of visual stimulation, as one of the women leans over the one getting head and adjusts their masks. Her head obscures what’s going on, but Forzen can hear the wet suck of their mouths against each other, lips smacking and tongues lapping at one another. They’re breasts press together, and the one getting head slips her fingers into the other’s leggings.

Another woman sits on the arm of the couch, watching the threesome in the middle, seemingly content to observe and run her hands over herself. Another sits on the other arm of the couch and stares directly at Forzen.

Forzen trembles with the desire to move in and join them, touch them, help please them. But he’s stuck, trapped by the rope and the gag and the sound. He gives a pleading look to the woman watching him, and after a minute of attempting to wear her down with his most pitiful expression, she gets up and moves towards him. He sighs in premature relief, and it turns into a cry of blissful agony when all she does is flick the tip of the sound hard, vibrating it along its length and deep into his cock.

This repeats. The women quietly fuck each other on his couch, switching positions and roles, Forzen watches, transfixed, and then one of them will mess with the sound and have him so close to coming he can taste it before she retreats again. It’s incredible. It’s excruciating. it’s wonderful. Forzen really is glad to see them again.

Much later, he’s exhausted, spent several times over, and sprawled across the couch. The women are all around and under him, massaging his rope marks, gently scratching his scalp, giving him water. Forzen wishes he could express his appreciation some other way than just by hugging whichever ones he can get his arms around. But he’s completely nonverbal at this point, and it will have to do.

He wakes up in the early afternoon. He’s alone, in much the same position as when he’d been about to fall asleep the first time, and the YouTube autoplay algorithm has wreaked havoc on his recommendation. He initially isn’t sure if the whole thing had been real or an extremely vivid dream. But his wrists are still marked with the pattern of nylon rope, and when he staggers to the bathroom and looks in the mirror, he finds five slightly different shades of lipstick branding the skin of his neck and jaw.


	23. Day 23: Lapdance- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No noclipping in this one, sorry Gordon.

“Are you voguing? Oh my god, don’t do that to him- don’t _do_ that to him, he doesn’t _want_ that!” Gordon says, staring agog at the salacious movements Benrey is directing at the other guard. _Do that to me. I want that,_ a very annoying voice in the back of his brain whispers. Gordon tells it to go to hell. “No, _nooo_ stop!” he whines as Benrey ignores him, continues switching poses, hands on hips, bending down, face tilted upwards to give the stoic guard a sultry look. “He’s not attracted to yoouu,” Gordon insists. _I’m attracted to you,_ the voice adds. Gordon wishes he had a mind gun to shoot it with.

“Oh, you uh… you jealous?” Benrey asks, finally ceasing his suggestive posing to turn to Gordon, stiff and stone-faced once more.

“Wh-no! Of course not, I’m just, trying to protect this guy!” Gordon says, indicating the guard.

“Seems fine to me,” Benrey says, shortly before Tommy shoots the guard in the face. “Well, not anymore. Anyway. You wanna see my moves for yourself?” He turns and sticks out his ass, looking over his shoulder at Gordon with hooded eyes. _Yes I do,_ says the voice.

“No! Absolutely not, get away from me!” Gordon shouts, backing away and trying not to stare at Benrey’s ass. Why is he backing away, anyway? He can just turn around and not look at him anymore. _Because I don’t want to take my eyes off that ass,_ the voice says. Gordon quickly silences it and takes out a real gun, trying to focus on absolutely anything else. Luckily there are plenty of headcrabs in the next room to take his mind off of Benrey’s strangely hypnotic movements.

* * *

“Here for a private show?” Benrey says when Gordon wanders into an office while the team is taking a break.

“N-Huh?! No! I’m looking for supplies!” Gordon says, wondering if he might have subconsciously followed Benrey in here. “What are _you_ doing in here?”

“Chilling. But if you’re gonna come into my private booth I guess we can set you up with a private dance.” He slides off the desk he was sitting on and motions Gordon to the office chair next to it. “I get it, bro. Don’t wanna get all... riled up in front of the other guys, right?”

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Gordon says, sitting down in the chair anyway and crossing his arms. “Your shitty dancing isn’t going to get me riled up.” He’s going to prove it by letting Benrey show him his “moves” or whatever.

Benrey smirks and starts to move, and it’s so dumb. There’s no music. No atmosphere. They’re in a sad office in a collapsing science facility. Benrey is in his fucking bulletproof vest and helmet. It’s not even approaching cheesy stripper cop territory. It’s just.. Benrey, swishing his hips, sticking out his leg, putting his hands behind his head to push out his chest. It’s so silly and stupid and Gordon cannot look away.

Benrey does that move again where he turns around and sticks his ass out, then he bends forward and touches the ground and...he’s pretty flexible. Gordon will give him that. His eyes follow the curve of Benrey’s ass, thrown in sharp relief by the stretched fabric. It’s not the most spectacular ass, but Benrey seems to know how to move it, and Gordon can’t help but wonder _how_ he knows.

Benrey undulates a few times, then rolls his entire body as he stands back up, winking over his shoulder at Gordon. Then he stops, falling back into his awkward resting stance. “That’s all you get for free,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” Gordon clears his throat, loathe to admit to himself that he’s blushing. “Well, y’know... I can tell you practiced, I guess, but- uh… don’t quit your day job.”

As if to personally ruin Gordon’s life, the HEV suit chimes in with its opinion on the matter. “Libidinal. Response. Detected. Do you wish. To initiate. Reproduction. Simulation?”

“Whoa, that means you got a boner, right?” Benrey asks, his eyes snapping to Gordon’s crotch. He steps closer. Gordon covers his face with his hand, too humiliated to speak. “Hey. Looks like you’re uh… a VIP.” Benrey lowers himself onto his haunches, places his hands on Gordon’s knees and pushes them apart. “Y’know VIPs get that...that VIP treatment.” He leans in, moving his head in a slow, sensual mockery of fellatio before looking up at Gordon, eyes heavily lidded, “Tell your suit to do it’s thing.”

“Yes,” Gordon says, voice breaking over the simple word. The HEV suit picks up the command immediately.

“Reproduction. Simulation. Initiated.” The familiar suction and vibration starts, but now Benrey is here, running hands over his thighs. Gordon can’t feel it through the thick armor, but he can still appreciate Benrey’s efforts as he moves closer between his legs, then slides his body up along Gordon’s torso until his nose is centimeters from Gordon’s. Gordon never thought he’d be staring directly into Benrey’s eyes while the suit gets him off, but here he is, being killed by it.

Gordon sinks down lower in the chair, spreading his legs further as Benrey loops his arms over Gordon’s shoulder. He seems to toss an imaginary head of long hair back and hooks his legs over Gordon’s hips, straddling him, weight solid and heavy. Gordon bites his lip, looking down between them as Benrey begins to grind his crotch leisurely against Gordon to some unheard rhythm. Or maybe Benrey’s hearing is keen enough to detect the movements inside the suit, because he seems to be doing a great job of matching up. Gordon can almost imagine it’s Benrey working his cock like this with his body. He can’t help but press his hips up against the other man as Benrey rides his lap.

“You wanna fuck me, don’t you?” Benrey mutters into Gordon’s ear as he rolls his pelvis over him, chest tight against his, complementing the actions of the suit’s jack-off function all too well.

“I- n...m-maybe...yeah,” Gordon breathes, hands finding Benrey’s thighs, relishing the feel even through his gloves.

“Mhm. Knew it-... wouldn’t be so thirsty for my uh...amateur-hour voguing if you didn’t already want it bad.” He’s got Gordon there. He bounces his ass in Gordon’s lap and hands, nearly vibrating his thighs and cheeks against him as the suit picks up intensity.

“Fuck, Benrey,” Gordon says, thinking that he’d gladly trade the suit’s mechanical precision for Benrey’s warm, soft flesh in this moment.

“Come on, Gordon, shoot your wad for my mediocre lapdance,” Benrey purrs, lips on Gordon’s ear and Gordon does, shaking and holding Benrey close against him as he spills into the suit’s waste reservoir.

Gordon sags in his chair, panting, looking up at Benrey’s stupid, smug, sexy face. He finds some reserve energy in his body to tilt his head up, chasing Benrey’s lips.

“Whoa, hey, I’m tryin’ to work here, man. This is a professional establishment,” Benrey turns his face away. Then he looks back at Gordon’s hangdog expression and his eyes soften. “But maybe for a VVIP I can uh... bend the rules a lil’,” he says, cradling Gordon’s head in his hands as he leans in to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've reviewed the footage and I'm pretty sure it's Tommy that executes the guard Benrey is voguing at. Maybe he's the one that's actually jealous.


	24. Day 24: Drunk Sex- Tommy/Gordon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also a lot of verbal degradation. They're both equally drunk. Tommy gets back at Gordon for all that infantilization >:3

Gordon knows he shouldn’t have a fourth mint julep, but they’re really good, and it’s the weekend. He deserves to unwind a little. Tommy’s having another too, and the time and drinks slip by with ease as they relax on Tommy’s back porch. He’s feeling pretty damn good, smiling into the disappearing sun as they chat about work and life and other unimportant topics.

“Thanks, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says when Gordon hands him another fresh sprig of mint from the potted plant next to Gordon’s side of the garden couch.

“Hey Tommy, how come you never call me Dr. Freeman? I got a whole PhD, y’know,” Gordon asks, half-joking as he leans back and watches Sunkist burying a rather human-shaped bone in the yard.

There’s no response, and Gordon looks over to see Tommy giving him an unimpressed stare. His thumb and forefinger, still holding the mint, are submerged in his drink.

Gordon laughs a little, and Tommy seems to break out of whatever trance he’s in. “A… a PhD comes with a lotta respect,” Tommy says, a strange little smile appearing on his lips. “But you... still gotta _give_ respect t’ get it.”

Gordon furrows his brow. “Uh, you okay, Tommy, bud?”

“There you _fucking_ go again!” Tommy says emphatically, flinging his hand out and sending droplets of bourbon and melted ice flying.

“Did I...say something?” Gordon asks, intoxicated brain trying to puzzle through Tommy’s reactions.

“Oh? D-did you say somethin'? Have. Have you been sayin' somethin'?” Tommy laughs. He’s definitely drunk, face flushed as he gets worked up over...something. “You talk all the fucking time but… but are you _saying_ anything, _Mr_. Freeman?"

“Uh…” Gordon says, feeling his own face heat up, though he isn’t sure why.

“You want me to… to call _you_ Doctor?” Tommy goes on. “W-with the way you talk to _me_? _I’ve_ published more... More papers than _you_ , Gordon.” He drains his drink and leans in, poking at Gordon’s chest with a few fingers. “In-Vitro Fertilization of Canis Lupus Ovum, Including Enhanced Genomic Structure Alterations Under Heavy Nitro-Helial Bombardment.” He pokes Gordon’s chest again. Gordon attempts to hide his red cheeks behind his cup, resulting in him drinking the whole thing in one go as well. “Effects of Ingestion of Highly Concentrated Caffeinated Beverage on Visual Acuity and Acceleration in High Stress Environments.” Another poke to the chest. His face is very close to Gordon’s now. “Anodized Lithium as a Substitute for Low-Valenced Ions in Tertiary-Density Solutions of Gallium and Radium.” Tommy’s eyes are alight with passion as he licks his lips, poking Gordon yet again. “What’ve _you_ published worth reading, _Mr._ Freeman?”

Gordon’s mouth works automatically to recall the title of his thesis paper, but his tongue is tripped up by the alcohol, by being called out so blatantly and at such close range. “Uh… Obs’rvation of...of Einstein-Podoslkly-Ros’n En-entanglement on... Superaquantum Structures by… uh… by... Induction Through Nonlinear Trasuranic……uh…”

Tommy gives a cruel scoff, “C-can’t remember the title of your own paper? Like I said, what’ve you published that’s...that’s worth reading?... Do...d’you have an erection, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy says, looking down and frowning with curious puzzlement.

“Wh-” Gordon looks down as well, surprised to see that yes, he does. Tommy’s closeness and the way he’s talking down to and bullying him are apparently Doing Something for him. “Uh...s-sorry,” he mutters, face going even redder with intense embarrassment.

“D’you want me to... touch it?” Tommy asks, still looking down. He places a hand on the couch cushion between Gordon’s legs.

“Uhm…” Gordon looks up, head swimming, buzzing, swirling with confusion and desire. He looks around for Sunkist, but the dog has apparently gone inside, bored of their conversation. He’d been half-hoping Sunkist would be watching, giving him a very good reason to say no. But now… “I mean… if you want,” he mutters.

“M-maybe I do,” Tommy says, a wicked smile growing on his lips, eyes half-lidded with sensual malice. “But you have’ta to show me some... _respect... Mr. Freeman_.”

“What d-” Gordon starts. He wishes he hadn’t finished his drink, because his mouth is suddenly very dry as he finally realizes what Tommy means, what this whole thing has been about. “Yes...please, uh...Doctor.”

Tommy’s grin turns pleased and indulgent as his hand moves up to palm the bulge in Gordon’s jeans. But he lingers for only a second before moving, going to undo his belt. Gordon finds the lack of contact worse than anything he can imagine right now.

“You’re...really horny, huh?” Tommy says, brows furrowing as his own alcohol-impaired fingers struggle with the buckle. It acts as an excellent form of teasing. “That how you got into B. Black Mesa? MIT? S-slept your way through?” Tommy’s face reddens, a very lovely shade in the twilight. Gordon should be extremely offended by this assertion, but all he can do is feel flattered that Tommy thinks he’s attractive enough to do that. Apparently Tommy is a mean, sexy drunk.

“N-no,” Gordon says, unsure of what to do with himself. He drops his empty cup on the couch as Tommy’s fingers brush over him again.

“No, what?” Tommy says, hands stopping as they start to pull his fly open.

Again, Gordon is confused, before his sluggish brain supplies the answer, “No, D-Doctor.”

“Good boy,” Tommy says, condescending in the hottest way possible. He gets his hand fully around Gordon now, and Gordon gasps, squirming and trying to find something to do with his own hands. He ends up with one on Tommy’s shoulder, the other on his thigh, squeezing with every twist of Tommy’s grip.

“I like you, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy growls into his ear. Gordon shudders, cock pulsing at the feel of hot breath on his skin. “But I _don’t_ like it when you… when you talk down to me.” He emphasizes the “don’t” with a painful squeeze to the base of Gordon’s cock that has Gordon whining. “I’m older than you, more accomplished than you. I’m _smarter_ than you.” Another squeeze. “So I’d… ‘ppreciate you showing me the respect I deserve. And...and see what being respectful gets you?” Tommy coos, speeding up his strokes and bringing Gordon ever closer to orgasm.

“Y-yes! I’m sorry!” Gordon insists, resting his forehead on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Sorry, _what_?” Tommy squeezes him again, and Gordon moans.

“Sorry, sorry _Doctor_.” Gordon breathes, desperate and sweating, putty in Tommy’s hands.

“Sorry, Doctor _what?_ ” Tommy pushes.

“Sorry Doctor Tommy!” Gordon blurts out.

Tommy snorts and then laughs fully, the punishing rhythm of his hand faltering and sending Gordon to pieces. “You’re lucky you're so cute and...and funny, Dr. Freeman,” Tommy says, pressing his lips to the heated pulse in Gordon’s neck. “Otherwise I wouldn't... wouldn’ put up with your bullshit.”

* * *

Gordon sleeps on Tommy’s couch (the indoor one), too wrecked to drive. They don’t speak about what happened that drunken evening, but afterwards Gordon is very careful to correct the way he speaks to Tommy… to Dr. Coolatta. Tommy takes notice, and before long he’s inviting Gordon over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's published paper titles are all complete bullshit I made up, especially the last one. Gordon's is taken and drunk-mangled from his wiki page.


	25. Day 25: Dacryphilia- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not strictly arousal from crying, but whatever.

“Ugh, why the fuck am I leaking?”

“Hm?” Gordon is nearly asleep, relaxed and drowsy after some very good sex. He doesn’t like being so susceptible to the trope of rolling over and passing out immediately after getting off, but he can’t help his physiology. Benrey’s weird statement makes him a little more alert, and he sits up in bed to look at him.

“Some kinda...water comin’ outta my face,” Benrey sniffs, and Gordon turns on the bedside lamp and leans down over him. Benrey blinks back at him, eyes shining and wet. A fat tear forms and rolls down the side of his face.

“Benrey, are you okay?” Gordon asks, putting a hand on Benrey’s cheek. His brain starts working overtime, wondering if he did something wrong while they were fucking, hurt him or said something stupid.

“Yeah, ’m fine. Fucking… great actually. I just… I dunno. Lotta cool feelin’s goin’ on and I just started...leaking.” Benrey sniffs again and gives Gordon a shaky smile. The muscle movement dislodges a tear from his other eye.

Thinking back to their session, Benrey did seem more affected than usual, more responsive as Gordon focused on hitting his sweet spot over and over again.

“Oh, I think you just got overwhelmed,” Gordon says, trying to keep the hint of pride out of his voice. He’s sympathetic of course, but he's also feeling rather cocky that he’s fucked Benrey so good it drove him to tears. “That can make you cry sometimes.”

“Ah shit, this is crying?” Benrey says, eyes widening as he wipes at a tear with his finger and looks at it with disdain.

“You’ve never cried before?” Gordon asks, though it doesn’t completely surprise him. Benrey’s new to a lot of human stuff.

“No, crying’s for babies, right? Ugh, damn, don’t look at me, man.” Benrey tries to roll away, but Gordon puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him there.

“Crying is for everyone. It’s good to cry sometimes,” Gordon assures, and leans in to press his lips to the moisture on Benrey’s cheek.

“Yeah?” Benrey sniffs, “Don’t think I’m a baby loser?” He wraps an arm around Gordon’s waist. Gordon lays back down close to him.

“No, dude, you’re pretty fucking cool, actually,” Gordon replies, kissing the tear on Benrey’s other cheek. He puts his arm around Benrey in turn and pulls him in, tucking Benrey’s head under his chin. He doesn’t mind the wetness transferring from Benrey’s face to his chest.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Benrey mumbles, snuggling in close as Gordon turns the light out.

Gordon laughs softly and holds Benrey tightly as he drifts to sleep.

* * *

“Oh my god, I’m so white,” Gordon laments, tongue burning, eyes and nose running. He doesn’t usually eat food this hot, but the Thai place rated its dishes’ spiciness with stars, and Benrey insisted that more stars meant better.

“Huh?” Benrey says from next to him on the couch, mouth full of noodles and unaffected by the hot peppers in their Laksa.

“Fucking- shit is spicy.” Gordon sniffs, dragging the back of his hand over his eyes. The food is extremely good, but it's the definitely higher on the Scoville scale than Gordon is used to.

“Oh shit dude, you’re leaking.” Benrey says, staring at him. He sets his bowl down on the coffee table and takes a drink of water.

“Yeah, it’s the uh, capsaicin in the peppers," Gordon explains, "It’s an irritant for humans and we eat it cause...I guess we’re fuckin’ masoch- what are you doing?”

Benrey is leaning over him, putting his hands on either side of Gordon’s jaw. “Hey, hold still,” he says, grinning. Then he licks Gordon’s face.

“What the fuck!?” Gordon recoils, twisting in Benrey’s strong grip, trying not to drop his bowl.

Benrey slathers his tongue over Gordon’s cheek, the tip lapping up the bead of one of his tears and following the salty trail up to his eye. He runs his tongue from the outer corner of Gordon’s lower eyelid to the inner one. “What?” he asks, like this isn’t extremely weird. “You did it to me the other night.”

“I- that-,” Gordon tries to squirm away but it’s no use. Benrey straddles his lap and holds him firm.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. S'good to cry. You’re not a loser,” Benrey insists, and then repeats the process on the other side of Gordon’s face. It feels very strange. But at the same time, it is kind of comforting, in the most bizarre way.

“O-okay, yeah, thank you…” Gordon says, shifting awkwardly and managing to reach around Benrey to put his food on the coffee table without spilling anything.

“Pretty fuckin’ cool.” Benrey pulls back, grinning from ear to ear and licking his lips. Gordon should not be getting hard from this, and yet...


	26. Day 26: Double Penetration- Benrey/Gordon/Forzen

“He’s _my_ boyfriend.”

“Exactly. You get to fuck him all the time.”

“You can go after.”

“Don’t want your sloppy seconds.”

“You love my sloppy seconds.”

Gordon rubs the bridge of his nose. This is so fucking stupid. He’d thought this would go smoothly since Benrey and Forzen already knew each other. He should have known better. A stranger would have been awkward enough to just shut up and follow orders. Instead he has to listen to the two of them argue like they’re fighting over pizza toppings.

“Shut up. You can both do it,” Gordon says. Benrey looks over to where he’s lying on the bed, ready and worked open and _fucking waiting_.

“Uh, yeah duh, we’re trying to decide who goes first.” Benrey rolls his eyes. “And _I’m_ saying that-”

“Both of you, at the same time,” Gordon says before the argument can start again. That shuts them both up. It’s a fantasy Gordon has had for some time, in addition to the standard threesome they’d planned for. And this is as good a time as any to try it out. If it gets things fucking moving along already, all the better.

Forzen eyes him, and then Benrey, and nods. Benrey eyes Forzen, then Gordon, and nods. Gordon sighs, and nods. _Finally._

Well...almost. It takes a while. Benrey does end up being first, technically, because Gordon is already used to his cock in his ass. He’s laying back against Benrey’s chest, and Benrey is grasping his hips, thrusting into him, spreading copious amounts of lube inside of him.

Frozen is hovering over him, stroking his own dick, looking down at Gordon’s ass like he’s skeptical. Gordon is too, to be perfectly honest. He already feels so full with Benrey inside him. But there’s no sense not trying. “Okay, I’m ready, I think,” he says, panting, trying to relax further.

Benrey pulls out and motions for Forzen to join him. “Let's go, bro.” It’s a bit awkward as Forzen leans in close, lays his dick along Benrey’s. Benrey takes hold of Gordon's erection, pumping him slowly, teasing him to try to get him to open up more as Forzen wraps his hand around himself and Benrey.

Gordon takes deep breaths as Forzen pours another pancake short stack’s worth of lube onto their nestled cocks. Thank god Gordon had the foresight to put a plastic sheet on the bed. “Okay?” Forzen says, looking up at Gordon and Benrey. Gordon nods, and he feels Benrey’s chin on his shoulder as he nods as well.

“Oh...oh fuck…” Gordon chokes out as the heads of their cocks start to wedge into him. All the prep definitely helps, but it’s still so much, stretching him open wider than he’s ever been. They go slow, yet Gordon can feel Benrey under him nearly vibrating with the urge to get back into his favorite place, arm tight around Gordon’s waist. And Forzen just wants to fuck something after all this waiting around and prep.

The crowns of their dicks breach the outer ring of muscle and Gordon groans long and loud. The safeword is near his lips, but it’s not there yet. He can take it. He can take them, it’s just so much.

Twice as much. Twice as thick. Twice as hot. Twice as many. Twice as full.

“Ah...Ah, _criss, criss de ciboire, lâ..._ ” Forzen is muttering under his breath. Benrey is mumbling too but it’s even less comprehensible than the Quebecois.

The sound of their combined pleasure does strange things for Gordon, and he wants more. “Move,” he begs.

They do. Sometimes alternating thrusts in and out of him, sometimes pushing in and pulling out as one. Gordon can’t decide which he likes better. He can’t string together a lot of coherent thoughts right now aside from _Big. Full. Hot. Good._ Mostly that last one as he comes, Benrey’s hand tight around his cock as he cranes his neck around to kiss him hard and deep.

Benrey releases inside Gordon, and then pushes Forzen out. He’s rather territorial, only letting Forzen cum onto Gordon’s stomach. He does allow Forzen to lay in bed with them afterwards, though. Twice as many cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about this one. Dunno if I just wasn't vibing on the story or what. Not my best work.
> 
> Also, you know, this would probably take a lot more prep irl.


	27. Day 27: Teasing- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also feet

“Eat blocks, idiot,” Benrey deadpans from across the couch, and Gordon groans as Benrey sends another pile of Tetris blocks onto his board. He’s going to fucking win. Again. Gordon’s been secretly practicing Puyo Puyo Tetris, trying to git gud enough to beat Benrey just once. But the other man is some kind of machine, hyper focused on the game and excellent at it.

It dawns on Gordon that maybe the key isn’t in matching Benrey’s skill, but in bringing it down to Gordon’s level. The two of them are sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, legs arranged around each other in the center in a loose tangle. If Gordon just moves his foot a little to the left…

He does, brushing the ball of his foot over Benrey’s crotch. Benrey jolts, and he drops a T block in the stupidest place. That’s going to take ages to fix. Benrey growls, glancing over at Gordon, who focuses on his own game and presses harder.

It’s a little difficult to multitask, to maneuver his blocks and puyos into the best positions while also sensing Benrey’s cock growing hard under his foot, surging with pulse and heat. He can feel it even through his sock and Benrey’s sweatpants.

“No fair,” Benrey pants out, “You know that’s my weak spot.” Gordon is pretty sure he means Gordon’s foot, not his own dick.

“Huh?” Gordon says, unable to hide his smirk as he dumps a host of multicolored puyos onto Benrey’s side of the screen. If he keeps this up he’ll be victorious in no time. He rubs at Benrey, eyes glued to TV as he tries to match colors and slot blocks. It’s easier with Benrey not sending him more bullshit every few seconds.

“Wh-fuck!” Gordon near-shouts as he feels pressure against his own crotch. He looks down and finds Benrey’s bare foot pressed against his groin, kneading at him through his boxers. Somehow the fact that Benrey can do the same thing to him hadn’t occurred to Gordon. “Hey, c’mon. That’s against the rules,” Gordons whines, watching with dismay as he botches a puyo color match and fills his board further. Benrey doesn’t have socks, and Gordon only has boxers, the warmth and weight of him is a lot more intense than it must be for Benrey.

“Didn’t know there were rules to uh...foot-cock jousting,” Benrey replies. Gordon snorts and presses harder, but so does Benrey, making Gordon groan.

They stop arguing, each of them splitting their focus between the game and their feet, trying to ignore the teasing press and rub of the other’s foot. The room is filled with the clacking of controllers, the incessant sound and voice effects from the tv, and their breath, hitched and frustrated. They both give each other just enough stimulation to not be quite satisfying, and more than enough to distract.

Gordon is a little more affected though, as Benrey’s bare foot can spread his toes far enough out that he can fit Gordon’s shaft between his big and second toe, squeezing and not-quite stroking up and down. It really isn’t fair, and Gordon’s concentration falters as Benrey slides down in his seat, getting a really good angle that has Gordon gasping.

“Fuck, no fuckfuckFUCK!” Gordon yells as blocks rain down before he can place them. His board fills up. Game Over. Gordon spikes his controller on the floor. Good thing it’s carpet. Bullshit. It’s fucking bullshit. He tried to use Benrey’s foot fetish against him and the asshole turned out to be better at it than him. Fucker is better at everything.

“So, what’s my prize?” Benrey asks after he’s done cackling. He pushes his hips into the arch of Gordon’s foot.

“Your prize is you can go fuck yourself,” Gordon says, taking his foot away. He knows he’s being bitchy, but damn, it’s just not fair!

“Aww, such a sore loser,” Benrey says, twisting his foot to keep working at Gordon. Gordon tries to give him the cold shoulder. But damn, it feels better than it has any right to. He’s starting to see the appeal.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let ya win next time if it means that much to ya.”

“Mh,” is all Gordon can say as Benrey’s other foot joins in, toes sneaking in to the slit of his boxers and sliding over the moist head of his cock. Gordon closes his eyes, relaxing into it. This could certainly sooth his bruised ego.

But then it stops, and Gordon looks up to find Benrey has pulled his feet away as well. “Benrey what the fuck?” he pouts.

“Losers don’t get prizes,” Benrey says matter-of-factly. He picks up Gordon’s discarded controller and holds it out for him. “Best of three?” he asks, spreading his legs and pulling his sweatpants down to free his very erect cock.

Gordon grins, peels off his socks, and grabs the controller. “You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just about the one thing that could happen to stop the kinktober train happened, so I'm going to end up being behind schedule. But I'll be damned if I don't finish after coming so far.


	28. Day 28: Uniforms- Benrey/Gordon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha so uh... this was supposed to be another quick little RP between [SutaMasque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SutaMasque/pseuds/SutaMasque) and I, but well... 12k words later, here we are. We can't be contained. It's been edited, but we haven't done any reordering of the longer replies so some of it may be a little nonlinear. It's too much work for lil ol' kinktober so we aren't bothering. Apologies if it puts you off.
> 
> Also, this is a roleplay within a roleplay. Benrey (played by me) and Gordon (SutaMasque) are engaging in uniform kink and a cop roleplay. ACAB, of course, but this is all consensual stuff, though it's pretty under-negotiated.

“comin over. got the new smash.” Benrey texts Gordon. He did not get the new Smash Brothers. It’s not even out yet. He’s got something called Big Vincent’s Smash: Gold from the bargain bin. It’s either about arm wrestling or truck driving, it's hard to tell. Regardless, Benrey is going to bring it over to Gordon’s, make him play it, flirt with him a little, watch him get all flustered. Good times. He’s not bothering to change out of his security guard outfit today, going straight from work to GameStop to Gordon’s. The new job is boring as hell, but the black uniform is pretty damn sharp if he says so himself. Complete with tie and some strategically shaped patches that could be mistaken for law enforcement insignia and give him an air of undeserved authority.

He arrives at Gordon’s place and knocks. He’s being good, see? Not even noclipping in, which is apparently “extremely rude.” Just because he might walk in on Gordon jacking it or showering or something? Big deal. But Benrey does like to stay on Gordon’s good side, so he’s a good boy. Knock knock, Gordo.

* * *

It takes a while for Gordon to get to the door, mostly because he doesn't hear the knock immediately. It’s a good thing he knows how long it usually takes for Benrey to get here after a text. He finally gets to the door after the third time, hurrying to open the lock before Benrey gest bored and noclips inside straight through him.

“Ring the bell next time, asshole,” Gordon says instead of a proper greeting, his tone more warm than irritated. He steps out of the way to let Benrey into the well lit foyer before taking a moment to take in his appearance.

And there’s surprisingly much to drink in here. Benrey doesn’t usually arrive straight from work like that, and this is the first time Gordon sees him in his full uniform too, complete with the vest and everything. His eyes trace involuntarily over the shape of it, from his boots up to his chest, and stop on the insignia. And yeah, it does kind of make Benrey look like a cop, just a little bit. He hates to admit it, but this whole getup does the man a lot more justice than the old Black Mesa uniform did. Even the color is more flattering on him.

Gordon looks away, feeling his face heat up. Benrey probably caught him staring, how embarrassing. He tries to remind himself that it _is_ Benrey who’s standing in front of him. Benrey is the opposite of an authority figure, he’s an outlier and should not be counted.

“Er…” Gordon starts, trying to break the silence, “Smash isn’t out yet, man. What did you bring?”

* * *

"The what?" Benrey says absently as he steps in, waltzing into the place like he owns it. He immediately dumps his keys, wallet and phone onto the coffee table, perfectly placed for him to forget them and barge back in later after he's left. "Smash," he reiterates, pulling the Big Vincent's Smash: Gold box out of the black plastic GameStop bag and holding it up for Gordon. The cover is rather homoerotic, showing two muscular, interlocked arms, clearly traced from the iconic shot of Arnold Schwarzenegger's and Carl Weathers' clasping hands in Predator. Behind them, a semi-truck speeds towards the viewer on a fiery country road.

Benrey can't help but notice Gordon is more focused on him than the very cool and hilarious box art. "What's with you?" he asks as Gordon turns away, catching a glimpse of his reddened face. What's different? He looks down at himself. Oh. Right. "What, never seen a uh... security professional before?" He stands up a little straighter, crosses his arms and looks down at Gordon with a suspicious glare. "Orrr maybe you're nervous, cause you know you done somethin' bad? Uh... Guilton Freeman?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

* * *

Gordon barely spares the box a glance. Yes, it’s funny and it’s still not Smash, at least not _The_ Smash, but he’s more preoccupied with getting caught like some weirdo staring at a friend’s uniform. He finally forces himself to look up at Benrey’s face and complete the picture, only to see Benrey glaring.

 _There are no security professionals anywhere in this area,_ Gordon thinks. “Wha— I didn’t—” He says.

“I haven’t been out of the house for like a month, I’m unemployed. What do you think I could’ve done?” Come on, get it together, Freeman. All you’ve done for the past week or so is sit around, play video games, and do job surfing. The sweat running down the back of his neck has nothing to do with the sudden realization that Benrey absolutely does look like a cop, or the kind of menacing smirk Gordon is getting from him. That face means trouble somehow, he just knows it.

“Knock it off, dude,” Gordon grins awkwardly and plucks the box from Benrey’s hands to busy himself with something, “I was just thinking— god what the hell is this game— I was wondering, aren’t you supposed to leave the uniform, y’know, at work? Is this even legal?” He gestures at the vest.

* * *

"Kinda defensive, aren'tcha?" Benrey says teasingly. Gordon is definitely more flustered than usual, and Benrey hasn't even made any vaguely flirty comments yet. Maybe Benrey just looks really fucking good in his uniform. "All kinds'a crimes you can commit from the comfort of your own home like uh...mail fraud," he says. Not like he has any authority over that. Or anything outside the job.

"It's Smash," Benrey says yet again. It says so right on the damn cover. "Course it's legal. I own this stuff." He gestures from the vest down to the boots, putting his foot on Gordon's coffee table to better display the shiny black leather. "Came outta my paycheck actually, kinda bullshit. And I earned it. Did a lot of training in uh...security protocol to wear this badge, y'know" he taps the 'badge.' It's actually just a vaguely shield shaped patch that bears the name of the private company he works for. "Wanna see?" he asks, the suggestive grin returning.

* * *

“I’m not. I’m really not.” Gordon is only worked up because Benrey is making him that way, because he’s insisting, prodding for a reaction. And it’s working, especially with that tone of voice, “I’m looking for a job, not a prison sentence.” He tries to dismiss with an embarrassed smile.

Gordon lets the video game be, holding it loosely by his side as he leans against the wall on his shoulder and watches Benrey get his coffee table dirty (dirtier than it already is) with his boot. And what a boot it is! He’s surprised Benrey is able to keep his footwear relatively clean, at least as far as the leather goes. Gordon has never been a foot man, but he sure can appreciate some good boots. He can think of a thing or two to do with those… Shit, focus, Freeman.

“Not surprised they’d do that,” Gordon sighs. He manages to shake it off a little, enough to approach Benrey and set the game down onto the table. If Benrey is planning to use this thing of his against Gordon, he’s not about to let him. He’s not going to embarrass himself any further. So he ignores the teasing tone, barely dodges that grin, and nods. “Sure. Bet it’s lame.”

* * *

Benrey doesn't even have to ask Gordon to come at him for the demonstration, he just walks right up. Almost like he wants to be manhandled. "Nah, it's pretty cool. Check this out." He takes hold of Gordon's wrist and easily twists his arm, forcing Gordon to turn around as he pins his wrist behind his back. "Basic apprehension," he explains, pulling Gordon against his chest, keeping him at close range. "I think it's cool, anyway." He grabs Gordon's other wrist to pull it around, holding both his hands behind his back now with one of his own.

He takes the briefest moment to appreciate the way Gordon feels and smells against him. He has to be happy with what he can get from the other man and his generally vague 'no homo' attitude. Benrey snaps himself out of it, and puts on his professional tone. "Do you consent to a search?" he asks, very close to Gordon's ear. He has a feeling this will be the breaking point. Gordon will tell him to fuck off, Benrey will let him go, they'll laugh about it and play terrible video games until Gordon tells him to get out of his house. Good. Times.

* * *

Gordon has been zeroed in on Benrey’s uniform this whole time. He hasn’t _realized_ they were no longer talking about it. Well, he’s forced to make the connection as soon as Benrey grabs his wrist and twists his arm. He goes with it, too startled to put up a fight, and then Benrey has both of his arms locked, totally invading his personal space. His voice sounds way too close, Gordon is pretty sure security guards aren’t supposed to get this personal with whoever they’re apprehending.

Gordon swallows. It sounds too loud. He hopes it’s not as loud in reality as it is to him. If he focuses, he can almost feel Benrey’s body heat radiating off of him. He should tell him to fuck off, he’ll tell him to fuck off in just a second. He shouldn’t be intrigued and maybe a little aroused by this situation.

“Yes,” Gordon’s mouth says while his brain isn’t looking. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to though. Gordon has always liked a man in uniform after all, ~~especially~~ even if it happens to be Benrey. When Benrey does actual security guard things, he’s almost believable.

It feels like something is about to give, This isn’t exactly how Gordon's imagined it would happen though… even if he has trouble admitting he’s imagined it at all, many a time. They have kinda been dancing around the whole thing, Gordon has been. But maybe he’s overthinking it again, his sick brain is totally making the situation hornier than it actually is. After all, how much can Benrey do?

* * *

Benrey blinks. He raises his eyebrows. His mouth even falls open a little bit. Good thing Gordon can't see how taken aback he is. Never supposed to show a suspicious individual uncertainty or hesitation. Still, he is hesitating. Brain running wild with possibilities.

"Uh. Okay," he says, struggling to remember his actual training and not just all the stuff he'd like to do recreationally. He clears his throat, attempting to reclaim his pro security guy voice. "Hands on your head," he orders, releasing Gordon's hands and taking a half step back. It's a test. To see if Gordon is serious about this. Because Benrey is dead fucking serious.

* * *

The command sends heat washing over Gordon’s entire body. Holy shit. If Gordon didn’t have a boner before, he certainly does now. There goes the whole ‘no homo’ thing. Popping a boner to your friend ordering you around is pretty homo in his humble opinion. It’s kind of different too, more coherent than back at Black Mesa. This is the tone of voice that makes Gordon actually want to obey. It’s a good thing his back is turned to Benrey, he doesn’t want to risk the other man noticing anything, even if his sweats are kind of loose-fitting.

Gordon slowly moves his arms and puts his hands onto the back of his head, opening himself for the search. He has a pretty good idea what that entails — Benrey would pat him down. Then it could go two ways. They’d call it a day and Gordon would be left with new conflicting emotions about the guy’s job and his uniform in particular, maybe they’d laugh about it over a game later tonight. Or… Benrey would notice Gordon is hard as hell and then… He doesn’t know what exactly.

* * *

Benrey admires the image of Gordon presenting himself for frisking. He should have worn his uniform here first day on the job. If only Gordon had been this compliant at Black Mesa. Of course Benrey hadn't been playing into his security persona very deliberately then. But if Gordon is this responsive to it, Benrey is certainly willing to show him his professional side.

He steps back in and puts one hand over Gordon's on the back of his head. "First, I'll make sure you don't have any contraband under your shirt," he recites. He reaches around pats at Gordon's chest, pressing his hand over his pecs then dragging down over his stomach to his waist. He tries to savor Gordon's warmth without lingering too blatantly. This is definitely the most bodily contact he's had with Gordon, save for whenever he would shove Benrey around at Black Mesa.

He slides his hand over Gordon's sides, then shifts to his back, moving his palm from the base of his neck to the top of his ass. "Next, I'll do the same for your pants," he says, wishing his cock would chill the fuck out. It's just a damn body search. On the guy he has a giant crush on.

* * *

Worst thing about this? Gordon is starved for physical contact. It had been ages in his suit, then the same amount of time cooped up in his apartment getting over the whole Black Mesa thing… Benrey tagging along at some point because, well, he’s apparently unkillable and really wants to continue getting on Gordon’s nerves. Point is, they have never touched much before, and Gordon didn’t exactly have many opportunities to get close with somebody else with his current lifestyle either.

So an actual human touch sends a new wave of heat through his system. This is just a demo, he reminds himself, tries to tell his stupid dick to calm down. His body is rigid under Benrey’s hands as Gordon listens to the guard recite what he’s going to do.

“Uh…” Gordon breathes, hesitating for a moment. “S-sure.”

At least Benrey sounds composed.

* * *

Benrey is barely composed. He's flushing rather furiously as he places his right foot next to the inside of Gordon's left foot, keeping him from closing his legs. He moves his hand over Gordon's ass, resisting the urge to just hang out there for awhile, squeeze a little, get a real feel for it, ~~cavity search.~~ He moves on, curling his hand around Gordon's thigh as he moves down the back of his leg, ostensibly feeling for anything he might have strapped to his limb. He switches feet and repeats the motion on the other leg, then leans over so he can feel the front of Gordon's legs.

He starts at the ankle this time and moves up, feeling along Gordon's calves and the inside of his thigh. He gets to the top of Gordon's leg and the back of his hand brushes against something hard and hot. "What's that?" he asks automatically, more out of training than actually realizing what it is. As soon as the words leave his mouth it dawns on him though. Oh shit, that's a boner. Gordon's boner. He's got a hard-on and he hasn't stopped the search at any point, despite the fact he must have known Benrey would figure it out. That means something, doesn't it?

Benrey's brain is a mess for a moment, mouth dry and pulse pounding. Okay. They're both hard, and Benrey has Gordon mildly restrained and is touching a lot of his body. So now what? "That a weapon?" he asks, somehow maintaining his serious tone. "Do I need to treat you as a hostile?" His voice gets a little lower, a bit more hoarse on that one.

* * *

Oh. Oh no. Gordon had been hoping this wouldn’t happen, he’d been waiting for this to happen. His mouth goes dry, his face feeling so hot it must be causing global warming. And does Benrey really have to ask?

“That’s…” Gordon starts. He doesn’t continue, waits for Benrey to act, do something, express discomfort maybe. But the only thing he gets is a question, and then a suggestion, spoken in a way that makes a shiver run down his spine. That gives him enough information about the way Benrey feels about... this whole thing. Gordon almost chickens out.

“I uh…” He makes a move to step forward, away from the guard, “I can explain...”

He sounds breathy, a little hoarse himself. Gordon kind of wants Benrey to follow, to take the option to resist away from him. He laughs awkwardly, “And um...what would you do if you found one?”

Is this a suggestion? Who knows. Gordon Freeman can’t fucking be direct about these things.

* * *

That movement forward of Gordon's might be him breaking away from this stupid scenario they're enacting. But he doesn't move very much. If he's signaling to Benrey that he wants to stop, he's not doing a very good job. So Benrey scoots forward a bit as well, keeping his foot and Gordon's up against each other.

"Uh huh, sure," he responds to Gordon's 'I can explain' excuse, like he's heard it a hundred times before. Benrey is working overtime trying to puzzle out Gordon's motivations, figure out what he really wants. If only they weren't both so shit at communication. But he just has to work with what they've got: Two boners and a lot of tension.

"I'd uh...I'd have to do a takedown." Benrey bites his lip as he steps even closer, till he's nearly pressed against him, showing Gordon he's in a similar predicament. "Like this." He tightens his grip on Gordon's hands as he pushes his knee into the back of Gordon's. With his foot's position, the leverage would drop Gordon to his knees easily. He does it slowly though, giving Gordon plenty of opportunity to resist or tell him to cut it out.

* * *

And just like that, Benrey is back to breathing down his neck, literally. Gordon’s emotions are mixed, but his dick is quickly winning this debate. He wants to see where this goes, how far it can go. Gordon can only deny himself for so long, especially with a man in uniform ordering him around like that, the fact it is Benrey a shameful but relatively safe bonus.

Gordon exhales sharply as Benrey’s knee presses against the back of his own. His brain is a bit muddled, the confusing thoughts mixing into a complete cacophony, and all he knows at this point is that he’s hard as a rock, and Benrey knows about it and has no objections. That’s good enough for him.

So Gordon goes down onto his knees, easily. Benrey isn’t exactly rough with him, so Gordon can stand in a way that’s more or less comfortable. “Shit…” he mutters under his breath, barely enough for Benrey to overhear. He moves his shoulders, testing how tightly he’s being restrained, and finds that Benrey has him in a pretty secure hold. The realization goes straight to his dick, making Gordon let out a breathy little noise without really meaning to, “F-ffuck…”

* * *

Benrey listens to Gordon’s quiet noises, relishing in then. It's one thing to have Gordon shout expletives at him when he's pissed off, and Benrey kind of likes that. But hearing Gordon mutter them under his breath like this... It's something different, feels more real, like he's affecting Gordon on a deeper level. Benrey can almost sense that power going to his head as he steps around Gordon's kneeling form to stand in front of him. The bulge in his uniform trousers is quite obvious now.

"And I'd have to investigate the ah....the suspicious object," he recalls. This isn't exactly protocol anymore. He's supposed to put Gordon flat out on his stomach, reach around to search him on the ground. But he wants to look at Gordon’s face as he gets down on one knee, keeping hold of Gordon’s hands on the back of his head.

Benrey sets his other hand on Gordon’s hip, trailing his fingers towards Gordon's cock. He watches his face the whole time, and it's very red, very cute. Benrey’s flushed too, Benrey's hard too. They're in much the same state, but Benrey has a greater illusion of control as he presses the flat of his palm over Gordon's hard dick. His heart just about him jumps into his throat as he rasps out, "You got a license for that? "

* * *

Gordon stays still as Benrey walks around him. As he stops, the strain in his fatigues ends up right in front of Gordon’s face. And he can see it, very well. Gordon lets his imagination run wild for a moment, his mind conjuring up a scene he’s thought about countless times, tacky as it is. It would be very easy for Benrey to unzip his trousers now and order Gordon to…

Ah, but this isn’t what they’re doing. Gordon almost feels a pang of disappointment when Benrey gets on his level. But that’s a good a confirmation as any. And really, Gordon can’t complain when the other man’s warm hand slides up his thigh and cups the hard line of his cock. His breath hitches.

Gordon looks down to where Benrey’s hand is pressing against his dick for a moment, then up at Benrey’s face to find him red, just as affected by this dumb act. Gordon smirks, then laughs softly. They’re both so stupidly into this.

“You’ll never take me alive,” he says, purposefully dramatic, as he jerks away from Benrey’s hands. There’s not much he can do in terms of maneuvering in his current position, but Gordon manages to break Benrey’s hold and put a little distance between them as he tries to get back on his feet and run.

* * *

It's a good thing Gordon is making it clear he's still playing within the weird fiction they've created. Otherwise Benrey would have to assume he was pulling out of the highly charged situation altogether. If that did happen, he's not sure where they would go from there. The further and further this goes, the more difficult it would be to laugh it off and go back to sitting five feet apart because they're Not Gay.

As it is, he's still a bit surprised when Gordon suddenly breaks free of his hold. He manages to get a few feet away before Benrey jumps into action. "Uh, suspect attempting to flee!" he announces to no one, getting back to his feet. "Stop right there!" Then he lunges, diving to grab Gordon much more bodily than before and wrestle him back to the ground.

* * *

Gordon manages to put some distance between the two of them before Benrey reacts. There isn’t much space in his apartment to run around, but Gordon is able to make it into the foyer before Benrey is at him again, pushing him and trying to pin him down to the floor. Gordon struggles just to test his power, trying his damnedest to worm out, but the best he manages are a few kicks and jerks before he’s face down on the floor.

The way Benrey is holding him down right now is… well, it’s far from professional, to say the least. He’s got him on his knees, shoulders and face pinned down, Gordon can feel Benrey’s clothed cock press against his ass and he’s pretty sure this is not how apprehension is supposed to go. Gordon finds himself panting from both exertion and arousal.

“Fuck…” He breathes, not giving up the struggle just yet. He bucks against Benrey, pretty sure he’s not managing much more than to rub up against him. He’s going to try to wriggle out until he’s rendered motionless.

* * *

Benrey gets Gordon on the floor in a hold that can only be described as "face down, ass up", looming over him from behind with a hand on the back of his neck. It's... really fucking nice to look at. He could sit here and enjoy the view all evening, but Gordon is still struggling, in a very distracting way.

"Mhh," Benrey grunts as Gordon bucks up against him, sliding the crack of his ass along Benrey’s cock. Benrey can't help but press back into it. It feels so fucking good, a release for just a fraction of the tension that's been building between them over the past weeks. It's a taste that only makes him want more.

"Slippery fucker," he breathes over Gordon, hips rutting against his ass. "Gonna have to... nhh- have to subdue you." The hand not holding Gordon down finds its way back to his cock, rubbing and squeezing through the fabric of Gordon’s sweatpants. This is not a standard pacification procedure. The material is way too thick for Benrey’s liking, but the brief chase and struggle has done something to his brain. Adrenaline and frantic lust mix, making rational thoughts fuzzy, and the possibility of removing clothing is currently lost on him.

* * *

Gordon huffs and keeps struggling, more pushing against the other man's clothed erection than anything else at this point. He has to give it to him, Benrey has got a tight hold on him. He tries to reach back with his arms to push him away but the position doesn't quite allow him to. The best Gordon can do is turn his head to the side, trying to see what Benrey will do. He can't, not quite, but that’s alright because he can still feel Benrey's hips rut up against him in a shallow mockery of sex. He makes up for what he can't see with his imagination.

Gordon feels his face get hot at Benrey's voice, so affected and yet so possessive. He lets out a startled groan as the guard's hand finds its way around his hips and grabs at his clothed cock. Gordon stops struggling, presses his ass up against Benrey in retaliation, and breathes hard through his teeth. God, it's been too long since he's been touched like that and it's been… never since somebody has indulged this fantasy of his. If it has to be Benrey to give both to him, well, Gordon's dick has no objections.

As Benrey continues rubbing and kneading his cock through his sweats, Gordon finds himself wanting more. He craves skin to skin contact, a hand on his cock, a cock in his mouth, or whatever Benrey is willing to do to him, but doesn't quite know how to ask without breaking the scene. So he does the best thing he knows how to do.

"That's it?" Gordon goads, voice raspy, mouth dry, "Thought you'd, h-hah, disarm me."

* * *

It's so good to have Gordon squirming under him, pushing back, pulling at the restraint Benrey has him in. He can feel all of him, his body, his heat, his muscles, his life. Benrey has been pining so hard and pathetically, he's willing to stop at every step, certain that this will be the most he could hope for. So when Gordon keeps egging him on he's thrown for a bit of a loop, uncertain of what else he should do. Disarm him? What the fuck does that even mean in this context?

It takes him a moment to gather enough brainpower to figure out what to say. "Tryin'a tell me how to do my job?" he growls, pulling Gordon closer against him, encircling his hand around him as much as he can through the sweatpants and squeezing. He licks his lips with a flash of inspiration, and turns Gordon over, despite how much he is loathe to take his dick away from Gordon's backside.

"Maybe I oughta gag you," he says, attempting to grab Gordon's wrists in case he starts struggling again, "Keep your criminal mouth from talking back." He's just about straddling him, but not putting weight down on him, not sure yet if he's going to keep teasing him or pull his pants down.

* * *

A choked moan leaves Gordon’s mouth at the squeeze. The body against his, Benrey’s words growled so close to his ear, it’s so good to feel somebody against him like that, stripping him of his agency despite the struggle, dictating what he can and can’t do. He barely protests as he’s being turned over onto his back.

Gordon’s eyes glaze over, his mouth falling open slightly at Benrey’s suggestion. He can’t be talking about… No, he definitely is. Oh shit. Gordon is getting everything he wants tonight. Some little part of him resists, tells him he shouldn’t be giving Benrey the satisfaction, shouldn’t be opening this door for him. Though honestly, it’s already been blown wide open, they wouldn’t close it if they wanted to.

Gordon struggles against the hands keeping his wrists pinned but they hold him well. He looks at Benrey, takes in the sight of him, the uniform certainly doing everything to accentuate his form. He’s still very hard too, and Gordon wants to feel the weight of him on his tongue, taste him as he renders him speechless.

“Do it,” He hisses, trying to pull his arms away, “You won’t.”

* * *

Every new position Benrey sees Gordon in is better and better. Now, laying on his back, sweating, still putting up play-resistance and clearly getting off on the whole thing, it's extremely lovely. Benrey wishes he'd known Gordon was some kind of authority-fucker. He would have worn the outfit his first day on the job. Or maybe tried being a little more stern at Black Mesa.

Gordon's dare has Benrey afraid he might cum in his pants. Holy fuck, this is fucking happening. He hates his belt, his slacks for being so present as he tries to open them one handed, the other still trying to keep Gordon held down.

"Oh y-...you really like to challenge authority, huh?" he says, his breath picking up as he pulls at the buckle, managing to get the leather free. "Gonna see what that fucking gets you." He works at the button now, and, swearing under his breath, he lets go of Gordon, half to get his pants down quicker, half just to see what he'll do.

* * *

"Thought you'd notice earlier," Gordon breathes. Sure, his actions at Black Mesa weren't of the sexy kind, but he has very much established himself as a rule-breaker, should've in Benrey's book at least. This isn't much different, only that there's no death looming over either of them. Gordon can focus on what he likes about insubordination and being put in his place by an authority figure.

His eyes follow Benrey's hands to his belt.

Oh, Gordon would very much like to see what that gets him, please, and thank you. It's kind of funny to watch Benrey struggle with his trousers while trying to keep him in check at the same time. Gordon ceases his movements, not wanting to belabor this part for longer than needed. When Benrey lets go he stays put, eyes glued to the hands pulling down the fly of the other's trousers. Fuck, this shouldn't be so hot, Benrey shouldn't be making Gordon so aroused. He wishes he could reach for his own pants, pull them down, free his neglected cock. There's no such option though and Gordon's hands find themselves on Benrey's hips instead. He pulls him slightly forward, eyes watching his face now, wanting to see his reaction to the blatant invitation.

* * *

"Sure, but I never thought..." Benrey shuts up. He doesn't want to get too meta. Or sappy. Never thought this would be the way to get to Gordon. Or that there was a way to get to him at all. No way is he going to break whatever spell is going on here. Gotta stay in character.

He finally gets his pants undone, pulling open his fly and yanking the waistband of his underwear down to let his dick bounce out. Hard as hell and leaking with pent up arousal. He stares down, almost in awe as Gordon grabs hold of his hips. There's really no doubt about it, this is happening. He swallows thickly, and leans down to put his hand under Gordon's head, grasping the base of his ponytail.

"Never thought I'd have to put you in line like this," he finishes, and hauls Gordon up by the back of his head until he's pressing his cock against Gordon's lips, pushing insistently. He's sitting further forward now, and can reach back to pull at the waistband of Gordon's sweatpants, somewhat awkwardly taking hold of his dick, loving how warm and hard it is.

* * *

Fuck. So much for weeks of denying his attraction to Benrey after everything that's happened at Black Mesa. So much for trying his damnedest to ignore the man's awkward flirting, just keeping him on his good side, only to end up with his cock against Gordon's lips because he has an authority fetish and that's enough to make him reconsider keeping it in his pants.

Gordon whines softly as Benrey cradles his head and pulls. Yes, this is what he wants, he thinks, this is what he needs, as precum smears against his bottom lip. His tongue peeks out to lick it off, eyes glaring stubbornly up at Benrey's face for a moment. Then he opens up, still not breaking the contact, and tongues at the head, getting it a little wet before his lips wrap around it. Gordon presses forward, trying to take more in, keeping his tongue flat against the underside of Benrey's cock as he goes down on him.

Gordon's moan is muffled against the length in his mouth when Benrey's hand wraps around his bare dick. He mentally thanks the guard for being so considerate and pushes his hips up into his hold, struggling to fit more cock into his mouth at this angle.

* * *

"Fuck," Benrey gasps as Gordon actually fucking does it, actually licks him and pulls him into his lips. God, it takes everything in him not to cum in his mouth right there. He has to close his eyes so he can't look at it, can't look at Gordon with his lips around him, looking up at him with that delicious, bratty expression. He holds Gordon still by the hair, needing to keep him from taking him in any deeper while he gets used to the intense sensation.

"God, fuckin' eager...to suck this security cock, huh?" he mumbles, pulling his hand away from Gordon to spit in his palm. He quickly returns it to where it belongs, wrapped around Gordon's dick, sliding up and down along his length with fervor. "Guess you know who's in charge after all."

Benrey takes a few deep breaths, and loosens up his grip on Gordon's hair, allowing him to move. He tries to lean forward a bit to make the position easier, without sacrificing his access to Gordon's erection.

* * *

Gordon does the best he can in the given position. Even if it’s awfully sexy, it’s not the most comfortable in terms of blowing a guy. At least he can see Benrey’s face and loves what he sees, loves how Benrey closes his eyes to stay composed as Gordon sucks him in, loves the way his cock twitches against his tongue. When Benrey holds him in place, Gordon stays, obedient, listens to what he has to say, and makes a muffled sound of approval. Benrey’s words do things to him, make him flush in embarrassment. He is eager. He can barely wait to move freely again.

When his hair is free again, Gordon moves his head forward to swallow Benrey’s cock proper, feels the head bump against the roof of his mouth and slide towards his throat. He tenses up for a moment and pulls back, before trying again, a bit less awkwardly, though he still can’t quite get the angle he wants. Gordon settles for more shallow movements, laving attention onto the head of Benrey’s dick, sliding his tongue around and pressing it to his slit.

Gordon keeps making small sounds the whole time. A hand on his cock feels amazing, slick and warm, he can’t stop bucking into the attention, tiny movements chasing the tightness. It’s been so long since somebody touched him like that, Gordon can’t help himself.

* * *

Benrey is fucking ecstatic, thrusting shallowly into Gordon's mouth, savoring the feel of Gordon's hair between his fingers, the silky heat of his cock in his other hand. It's so fucking good. So fucking unexpected. He'd expected to milk a few laughs out of Gordon from the other side of the couch while they played that stupid game. Now Gordon is milking his cock with his lips and tongue.

But it's clear they're both not reaching their full potential in this position. And as much as Benrey wants nothing more than to touch Gordon's dick for the rest of his life, it's obvious Gordon is very into the power dynamic they've got going on. If Benrey can enhance that, well, Gordon would probably like that a lot.

He pulls Gordon off of his dick and lets go of him completely, steadying himself with a slimy hand on the wall as he stands up. "Get on your knees," he orders, pointing to the floor in front of him and nudging Gordon's ass with the toe of his boot. "Gotta follow uh, proper cock-sucking protocol if I'm... gonna deal with a cock-sucking criminal like you." He hopes his tone can make up for the bad dialogue. He does want to see this, see if Gordon will do it when Benrey's not even touching him, just follow his commands alone.

* * *

Gordon actually makes a displeased noise as he’s pushed off Benrey’s dick. Man, he was just starting to get into it. What the fuck is his problem? What does he want? He’s about to ask as much when Benrey stands up and points to the floor in front of him. Oh. Oooh.

He makes a face at being nudged but rolls over and stands on his knees, shuffling over to where Benrey is standing. The guard’s cock is almost touching his lips from how close he is, and Gordon wants nothing more than to take it back into his mouth, let it slide down his throat, and make Benrey come. He’s thinking so hard about it that the cheesiness of Benrey’s words barely fazes him. Yeah, Benrey sounds like a bad porno but that’s just the way Benrey is, Gordon is used to it. He’s still projecting that air of authority though and that’s what matters.

Gordon’s pants are still half off, cock hard between his legs. He doesn’t waste much time wrapping a hand around it, sliding it up and down the still slightly damp length as he waits for further instructions.

“Do I get to know what exactly the protocol consists of?” Gordon asks, voice coming out raspy, breathy as he works his hand over his dick. “Sir?” he adds, just to see Benrey’s reaction.

* * *

It's incredible to watch just how quickly Gordon rolls over and gets up on his knees, ready and willing to continue. Benrey half expected him to snap out of whatever trance he's in and realize he's making a huge mistake, tell Benrey to get the fuck out. But he's clearly too horny to do that, stroking himself as he gets into position.

That 'Sir' catches Benrey off guard, and his cock twitches as he bites his lip. Fuck, it sounds so good coming out of his mouth. He hadn't even had to tell Gordon to call him that. He's clearly a major sucker (literally) for a guy in uniform.

"Should be obvious," Benrey says, unable to help himself from leaning forward, brushing Gordon's lips with the tip of his cock. He really wants to get back in there. "Do well and maybe you'll uh...get off on good behavior."

Gordon is too close, his breath too warm on Benrey's dick to wait any longer. He wraps his hand around the base of Gordon's ponytail again. He does want to hear that word one more time before he takes away his speaking ability, though. "Got it?" he asks, staring down at Gordon hard, prompting him to respond correctly.

* * *

The small voice telling Gordon he’ll regret this is long gone from his head, replaced by the heady satisfaction of being made to submit. One of his old fantasies is playing out in front of him in the exact way he’d imagined it would – made to stand on his knees in front of a person in uniform, pleasuring them in exchange for letting Gordon off the hook for… whatever, he’s never thought this far into those. Sometimes they would have Benrey’s face and on those nights Gordon would wipe cum off of his stomach with confusing feelings of both existential dread and deep satisfaction.

Benrey’s reaction to being called ‘sir’ tells Gordon all he needs to know, and he’s ready to say it as much as needed if it’s going to undo him like that. He tries to keep eye contact, grinning stupidly up at Benrey when he feels the man’s cock press against his lips.

He’s about to open his mouth and swallow Benrey’s dick down only to have a hand get fisted into his hair once again. Gordon takes a deep breath, keeps himself put, and focuses entirely on Benrey’s voice and the eyes pinning him down, demanding a correct answer.

“Yes… sir,” Gordon says, lips brushing against the head of Benrey’s dick. The hand on his own cock stops moving, squeezes lightly instead. Gordon really wants to drag this out and with how arousing this whole situation is he can’t really touch himself much. He opens his mouth instead, blatant about what he wants.

* * *

Benrey wishes he hadn't left his phone on the coffee table. What a perfect fucking picture this would be. Gordon looking up at him, paying him such singular focus, ready to swallow him down as soon as Benrey lets him.

And who is he to keep denying him? Benrey nods, muttering "Good boy," nearly under his breath. Then he pushes Gordon forward, down and down and down, all the way, feeling his lips and tongue sliding along all of him. He'll let him go at his own pace after a moment. For now he wants Gordon to take him in entirely, be unable to pull back to breathe, to feel the full girth and length and heat of him. He wants to hear Gordon choke on him.

* * *

Gordon makes a small noise at the push, closing his eyes as Benrey slides his dick into his mouth. Goddamn, finally. He goes with it, placing his hands on the guard’s hips, taking him in deeper until he’s about to slide into his throat. Gordon tries to pull back but Benrey’s hand holds him tight by the hair, pressing him forward still.

Gordon’s brows furrow, eyes shooting open to look up at Benrey as he’s being pushed past his comfortable limit, all the way down Benrey’s dick. His shoulders tense up, eyes going wide, hands forming fists once it’s all the way in, down his throat, Benrey holding him there with nowhere to go. He does his best to relax in the man’s grip but doesn’t quite succeed, gagging audibly around the length. His eyes water as his throat tightens uselessly to push the offending object out.

* * *

Fuck, that's good. So good to watch and hear and feel. Benrey groans as the muscles of Gordon's throat constrict around him. He would love to stay this way, pet Gordon's hair, listen to him gag, watch his eyes produce instinctive tears. But he does like Gordon to be able to breathe so he loosens his grip, lets Gordon push him out.

He keeps the head of his dick inside Gordon's mouth, not wanting to give him full freedom. He's no longer directing Gordon by the back of his head, but his hand remains, a persistent reminder that he's the one in control, that he can do that again whenever he wants. "Careful, don't choke," he teases, using his thumb to wipe at one of the tears threatening to slide down his face. He relocates his hand to the side of Gordon's jaw, feeling the muscles tense and tremble.

* * *

Gordon pulls back as soon as he has the option, taking deep breaths through his nose and trying to calm down his reflexes. His throat definitely feels abused, forced to accommodate so much right off the bat.

He can distantly hear Benrey's words through the roaring blood in his ears and they feel like mockery, making Gordon direct a glare up at him, unable to do much more with the crown of his cock still in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around it, presses it flat against the frenulum, and moves forward, still not breaking the eye contact.

Gordon takes his time to get used to it now that he has the option, this angle serving him much better than before, letting him slide the length towards his throat with ease. He doesn’t go further than that for now, instead choosing to pull the pants slightly lower down Benrey’s hips together with his underwear just to give Gordon access to more of him. He wraps his fingers around the base of Benrey’s dick, the other hand cupping his balls and giving them a light squeeze.

Then everything falls into a familiar rhythm of pushing and pulling, Gordon’s expression slowly beginning to come apart. His eyes finally close again, breaths beginning to come out ragged through his nose as he focuses on sucking Benrey off, wanting nothing more than to make him produce some kind of noise, maybe even praise if Gordon does well. His brain starts to fog up again as he thinks about it, he really wants to do well for Benrey.

* * *

Benrey hums in pleasure as Gordon slathers his tongue over the tip of his cock. And then he really gets to work, sucking him in earnest. Who knew Gordon was so good at sucking dick? Does he just do this? Blowjob master this whole time and never let his pal Benrey in on that fact? Kinda rude.

But he can't really get mad at him when he's using his mouth and hands so well right now, playing with his balls and stroking the shaft in such a wonderful way. Benrey has to lean against the wall, his knees want to buckle and fold from how good it feels. He can't help but hold Gordon down a bit each time he sinks further in, just for a second, savoring that hot wetness. He lets out a soft moan as Gordon swirls his tongue just so, pulling him just a few more steps closer to the edge.

The fact that Gordon is using both his hands makes Benrey wonder how his cock is doing. He's very considerate like that (or just hopelessly infatuated with the other man). He tilts his head to peer past the gorgeous scene of Gordon taking him in. His dick is still hard, sticking out over the waistband of his sweatpants. Looks lonely. Benrey leans heavier on the wall, lifting his foot to slide the side of his boot along Gordon's shaft. The boots are still pretty new, and Benrey is good about cleaning them, so it should just be smooth, black leather stroking Goron's skin. Probably not enough to give him any fulfilling pleasure, but it's something, if only a tease.

* * *

Each noise just serves to spur Gordon on, soft static replacing coherent thought in his head the longer he goes, until his mind is blissfully empty. He opens his eyes from time to time, raking them over Benrey’s form as if to remind himself who he’s doing this for. He wants more of those sounds, struggles to think how to get them in this state.

He’s so caught up in what he’s doing with his mouth and hands that the movement of Benrey’s leg completely escapes his focus until there’s smooth leather tracing the line of his cock. Gordon moans, hips stuttering against Benrey’s boot. It doesn’t give him much in terms of stimulation, but it’s the thought that counts, and Gordon looks up and Benrey’s face, none of that stubbornness visible anymore. His face flushes, eyes glazed over with something that hasn’t been there before, and he does the next best thing he knows in response – pushes his mouth all the way down on Benrey’s cock. The slide is easier this time around, not quite as abrupt, and Gordon is able to stay there for a moment before reflexes start kicking in.

* * *

"Ah! Ah-...ffuck, Gordon." Benrey groans out. Hopefully using Gordon's name doesn't break anything in the scene. He can't help it, it is Gordon after all. Gordon who's doing this, working his cock, Gordon who's swallowing him down to the base of his own volition this time. He pulls at Gordon's hair, not directing him anywhere, just increasing his grip out of need to hold on tight.

He's not going to last much longer like this, for a multitude of reasons, chief among them being that yes, this is Gordon. He looks so good, so compliant and submissive and absolutely delicious. If only he could last forever, look at this forever. Benrey wonders if he's going to be able to see this again. If he can get Gordon into this state again.

But it's probably best not to get too far ahead of himself. Live in the moment, get as much out of the now as he can. He continues rubbing the toe of his shoe against Gordon's dick, precum dripping down onto the shiny leather. "You're so good at this," he says, voice low and rough. "Gonna make me cum into that nasty mouth 'a yours." _Please,_ he thinks, _please let me cum in your mouth._

* * *

Gordon pulls away for a moment and surges forward again, swallowing Benrey up to the hilt another time before he sets the pace, taking him as deep and fast as he can, the feeling of hands in his hair enough of a direction for him to continue this way. This is clearly doing something for Benrey because he moans Gordon’s name, strokes the tip of his boot along his cock more. He rubs up against it, all but humping Benrey’s leg at this point, as fruitless as it is.

Gordon lets out a happy noise when he finally hears the praise he’s been craving this whole time, said in such a rough voice it makes a shiver run down his spine. He’s done this to Benrey, a man in uniform, he’s doing a good job for him, pleasing him. He wants nothing more right now than to make Benrey come, his own needs a background noise. He can tend to himself after, it’s not a big deal.

The hand that’s holding Benrey’s balls squeezes and rubs while the other lets go of his dick and reaches around to grab at his ass, pushing his hips towards Gordon’s face. He doesn’t have a better way to convey what he wants, hoping Benrey would understand by the noise he makes and the little motions of his arm every time Gordon moves to take Benrey’s dick in.

* * *

Gordon is working overtime now, and his effort is certainly appreciated. Benrey has to take his boot away from Gordon, because he is absolutely going to slide down the wall in a puddle if he doesn't have both feet planted firmly on the ground.

"Ff...god that's good. Oh fuck, yeah, just like-... guh." he says, and not just because Gordon clearly enjoys the praise. It's hard to keep his mouth shut as he gets closer and closer, as the pressure in his gut spreads and builds, as Gordon squeezes his balls, almost as if urging the orgasm out of him. It's working.

It isn't long before Benrey's reached his limit, before he's pulling Gordon's face against himself, pushing in as far as he can as he cums into him. He lets forth a long, shuddery groan, hips quivering, fist tight in Gordon's hair. It feels so incredibly wonderful. It's a good few seconds before he remembers that all-important human function of breathing, and lets Gordon go, a few drops still dribbling from the tip of his cock as he drags it back along Gordon's tongue.

* * *

The more Benrey talks and the harder he breathes, the louder that pleasant buzz in Gordon’s mind gets. His jaw hurts, his throat is tired, his chin is wet and gross but none of that stops him from fucking himself sloppily on Benrey’s cock. Each and every noise goes straight to his dick and when Benrey’s hands tighten in his hair, when his face is pressed flush against him, Gordon moans along with him, trying to stay still and relaxed as he feels warm cum fill his mouth and slide down his throat.

This is where the fantasy ends, where he cums when he’s alone in his bedroom. In reality, he's still hard and yearning.

Gordon drags his tongue against the underside of Benrey’s dick as he slowly pulls away, teary-eyed, and swallows. He coughs, takes a few gulps of air, and wipes his mouth with the back of his left hand, while his right grabs at his cock. He doesn’t bother to fix his glasses, which sit slightly askew on his nose, looking up at Benrey and smearing precum on the head of his dick with his thumb.

“Fuck…” Gordon breathes, voice coming out raspy from his overused throat. He needs to cum, like, right now. His mind is still hazy, so the best thing he can come up with is a breathy ‘please’, hoping it’d convey how needy he feels.

* * *

Benrey's brain is a radiant pile of goo in the afterglow, humming with contentment. He could sit down and just vibe like this for a good while, but it seems like there are pressing matters that demand his attention. Gordon is still looking up at him, lips red and swollen, glasses askew, expression and voice pleading. Wow. Benrey did that to him.

"H-... hands off," he commands, nudging Gordon's hand away with his boot. "Stand up." Despite his harsh tone, he can't help but adjust Gordon's glasses to sit them straight on his face. He puts his cock back in his underwear and pulls his pants up while he waits for Gordon to comply, though he doesn't bother zipping his fly or buckling his belt.

* * *

Gordon would be happy to just get off on the floor in front of Benrey. He’s about to do just that when a boot nudges his hand away from his cock. Gordon’s full attention immediately snaps back up to the man in front of him, the man he has implicitly asked to do something about this. And he’s doing… something, Gordon isn’t sure what aside from fixing his glasses.

His knees have been screaming at him for a while though, so Gordon is happy to obey and get up on his slightly wobbly legs. The tone of Benrey’s voice causes him to flush in shame, has he done something wrong? Benrey had no problem with him touching himself prior so he just assumed... Worst of all, he has never thought about this part, he has no idea what could happen next, though his hazy mind is already filling in the holes with various ways this could go — from Benrey pushing him face-first against a wall to him telling Gordon to pull his pants back up and call it a day.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Gordon asks instead of guessing, not looking at Benrey’s face like he’d actually done something out of line.

* * *

Gordon clearly thinks he fucked something up, and it's really fucking cute. Benrey wants to hug him, kiss him, tell him he did everything absolutely perfectly. But a real hard-ass security guard probably wouldn't do that. So he tries to transform his cummed out, goofy smile into the sort of authoritative smirk a bastard cop would wear (this is redundant, as all cops are bastards). "I'm asking the questions here," he says, and grabs Gordon's wrists, turning him around again and grasping his hands behind his back.

He marches him back into the living room like that. It's a bit awkward with Gordon's pants halfway down his hips and his dick out. When they get to the couch Gordon turns him around once more and shoves him to sit on the couch. "So," he says, standing over him, looking down at his flushed face. He nudges Gordon's knees apart and then puts his boot on the couch cushion between them, a few inches from his dick. "You think you deserve to cum, huh?" he asks, leaning over, resting his forearm on his elevated thigh so he can get right up in Gordon's face. "After all the uh...crime you did?"

* * *

Gordon sits down on the sofa, absolutely out of it. Has he fucked up? Where did he fuck up? He looks up at Benrey’s face, straining his brain to understand what he wants, what he’s unhappy about. He spreads his legs immediately and without question, watching Benrey’s boot take its place right between them, way too close to his still very hard cock. He looks back up at the guard.

“I uh… I thought what I just did,” Gordon swallows, the taste of semen is still on his tongue, “was to get me off the hook. Was that not enough?”

What more can Benrey want? The ideas that fill Gordon’s head get more obscene the more he thinks about it. Of course, he could call this scene off at any time if he wanted to but Gordon is too curious and turned on for that. He kind of wants to see where this gets him.

“Let me, uh… please, sir? Unless there’s something else you want?” Gordon would get down onto his knees again if needed, would do pretty much anything right now if Benrey let him cum.

* * *

Wow, Benrey really put Gordon deep into the headspace, huh? Once again he has to marvel that he was able to do this, affect Gordon so fully. "Didn't I say I was asking the questions?" he says sternly, putting his finger in Gordon's face, nearly touching his nose. "Still got a mouth on you." He grasps Gordon's jaw with his other hand, running his thumb over his still-puffy bottom lip. "At least I... I fucked some manners into it." He licks his own lips, savoring the contrition and want in Gordon's expression for just a second more.

"Yeah, you get to cum, it's uh, the law," he says, and moves the hand not on Gordon’s face down between them to wrap around Gordon's cock. "But I'm gonna be the one to do it." It feels so good to be able to grasp it fully, much better than when they'd been sprawled on the floor and he'd reached behind him. And he can savor the heat and texture without the pressing distraction of his own arousal (though just doing this is making his dick reconsider its nap). "And you gotta keep asking reeeal nice, just like that," he says with a wide, toothy grin.

* * *

As Gordon looks up and Benrey’s grinning face, two things click in his mind. First, this is an act, he hasn’t actually done anything wrong, second, holy shit Benrey is surprisingly good at pulling that kinda shit off for extended periods of time. He managed to take Gordon from 0 to 100 just by appearing at his doorstep in his criminally sexy uniform and he just keeps. Going.

Molten heat travels down to Gordon’s core at Benrey’s words, the hand traveling down to wrap around his cock, and he hears himself whimper, nodding frantically in agreement. Benrey sounds possessive somehow, it has to be _him_ , Gordon has to ask _him_. If Gordon had any brain cells left he’d scoff, but right now it feels incredibly right.

“S-ssshit…” He breathes, feeling his dick twitch in Benrey’s hand, he’s so fucking pent up, “Please, _s-sir_ …”

* * *

"No swearing at an officer," Benrey reprimands, and gives Gordon the lightest little smack on the cheek. He is absolutely power-tripping right now, wallowing in all the attention and deference Gordon is giving him. He starts stroking Gordon with long, slow movements, drawing each one out.

"Please, _what_? What do you want?" he asks. Because of course he's going to make him say it. "Be ah... be specific," he adds. The saliva on his hand from earlier has mostly dried up, but if Gordon wants some lubrication, he's going to have to ask for that too.

Benrey can't keep his eyes off Gordon, alternating between the incredibly attractive look on his flushed face and his straining, rock hard cock. He can finally get a good look at the latter, even if it keeps disappearing in and out of his fist.

* * *

Everything Benrey does adds to the haze in Gordon’s mind, not letting him dip out even for a moment. He makes a small sound as he’s smacked and goes silent save for his ragged breathing, holding himself from saying any more obscenities. And ah, of course, Benrey would have him spell out everything. Gordon isn’t surprised but feels the flush creep down to his chest at that anyway. He isn’t used to asking nicely for just about anything, and especially not something like this.

“Mnn…” He looks away, chewing on his bottom lip. He could… ask for something besides the obvious. He wants a lot of things right now, though he’s frankly not ready for some of them even if it does sound like a good idea at the moment. Maybe later. Maybe next time?

“Could you please, uh… use some saliva? It’s a little dry.” Gordon finally asks, not looking at Benrey, “S-sir.”

* * *

"Ohhh," Benrey says, condescending as he pulls his hand away to bring it to his mouth. "Nasty little crimeboy Freeman wants me to make it wet for him, huh?" he spits in his palm again. "Well, since you asked so nicely." He returns his hand to Gordon's dick, moving smoothly now with slick strokes, faster than before.

"Any other requests? Since I'm feeling so generous and you're being so fuckin' polite?" The no swearing rule doesn't go both ways, apparently. He honestly wants to give Gordon the world right now, for being so pretty and hot and perfect for Benrey. But if Gordon just asks him to make him cum he'll gladly do that and be more than satisfied.

Benrey slides his boot off of the couch, placing his knee there instead so he can get closer as he continues rubbing Gordon's cock. He pauses to run his thumb over the head, press against the frenulum, studying Gordon's face and committing each shift in expression to memory.

* * *

Gordon pants harshly, leaning back on the sofa to see Benrey’s slick hand work over his cock, see him watch him, so close and so attentive. It’s embarrassing how hot this is and how much he wants more, wants Benrey’s hands all over him, wants him to whisper awful things to his ear as he makes him cum. He can’t help but buck lightly, thighs tensing with an effort to keep himself put.

“Ff- please, touch me more?” Gordon hisses, the feeling of warm and slick pressure around his cock definitely doing something for him already, “Let me cum? _Please_ make me cum.”

* * *

Benrey doesn't waste any time fulfilling that first request. He puts his hand on Gordon's face again, thumb dipping between his lips briefly. Then he moves down to loosely grasp around his neck. What about this? Is this something he'd be into as well? What about this? He pushes his hand up Gordon's shirt, stroking his nipple, pinching, dragging his nails lightly over his chest. Testing, teasing, suggesting. _I can do more. Let me do more next time. Let me do everything._

His other hand, however, slows down, loosens up around Gordon's dick. As much as he doesn't want to deny Gordon anything ever, the other man did forget one very important word in this whole situation. He leans in, speaking against Gordon’s ear. "Please make you cum.....?" he prompts, tone promising. He'll do it, he will, just say the word...

* * *

When Gordon feels a thumb on his lips he parts them, flicking his tongue against the tip, a hand on his neck causes him to hold his breath, tilting his head slightly backward and giving Benrey all of the access he might need. He can feel Benrey’s other hand slow, slacken around his cock, and whimpers.

“Please… _ahn_ … please make me cum, _ssssir._ ” The last word comes out in a hiss as Benrey’s fingers pinch Gordon’s nipple, causing his body to jolt, hips rutting into the loose grip. Gordon pushes his chest slightly forward into Benrey’s hand in hopes to entice him to do more.

* * *

Gordon tilting his head back is all the invitation Benrey needs. He lowers his head and presses his mouth to the side of Gordon’s neck, sucking, licking, scraping his teeth against the hot skin. He pinches Gordon’s other nipple, then spreads his palm over his chest, feeling his heart pounding underneath the flesh and bone.

"Go on," he urges, tightening his grip on Gordon’s erection, quickening his movement, encouraging it out of him. "You've been so good, now cum for me, it’s your ah… legal right." He mumbles the last bit into Gordon’s neck, kissing his surging pulse.

* * *

Gordon is close, he’s so fucking close. He’s been pent up for what feels like ages now and Benrey is pushing him towards his peak embarrassingly fast. He cranes his neck for him, gasping at the scrape of teeth against his skin, the hand stroking his cock. Benrey is all over him with his hands and mouth and his words in his ear, it’s all too much.

Gordon’s face tenses up, eyebrows knitting together as the tension in his stomach becomes unbearably tight. He pants harshly and clings to Benrey’s shoulders, dragging him further up the sofa as his whole body tenses with a shudder, and then he’s cumming, groaning, low and rough through clenched teeth, nails digging into Benrey’s uniform. It’s almost too much for a moment, and then it’s done.

Gordon sags into the couch, catching his breath. He’s still very much out of it, the dull static in his mind replacing rational thought.

“Holy shit, man,” is all he can say, resting his head on the top pillow. He’s pretty sure he came over his shirt. He can care about that later.

* * *

"Yeah, _yeah,_ " Benrey breathes as he feels Gordon tensing up. He leans back at the last second, wanting to watch, to see Gordon cum. He's not sure if he wants to look at his cock or his face more, and ends up darting his gaze between the two. It's probably why he isn't careful, not directing Gordon’s dick entirely towards his unemployment outfit and away from Benrey’s professional uniform. He's too spellbound by Gordon's blissed out expression, his quivering cock as he strokes him through the orgasm.

"Yeah, holy shit," Benrey agrees afterwards, staring at the drop of semen that's landed on his uniform shirt. There's a bit on his hand as well, which he licks at, because it's only fair, Gordon swallowed his whole load after all. He wipes his wet hand on Gordon’s shirt, since it's already pretty damn messy. Then he pulls the clean hem of Gordon’s shirt over to dab at the spot on his uniform. He's not sure if he wants to clean the shirt or save it as is for posterity, proof that he did indeed get Gordon off.

He looks back up at Gordon, grinning. He doesn't really know what to say after all that. "You uh...need anything?" he asks.

* * *

Gordon cracks his eyes open just in time to see Benrey lick his cum off of his hand and grimaces.

“God, you’re gross,” he says with no real bite behind the words. He’s feeling too lightheaded to actually care, too boneless to move as Benrey wipes his hand on his shirt. Whatever, it’s ruined anyway.

“Uh… Some water and a nap would be great, I guess.” Gordon hums. He closes his eyes. It would be amazing if Benrey took care of him right now, real nice of him to ask. “A change of clothes too. Just um… get something off the floor in my bedroom, doesn’t matter... What the fuck man, I think I’ve just cummed my brains out.”

Exhaustion sets in way too quickly. He shouldn’t be surprised though, this was nothing short of exhilarating. Gordon tries to keep himself awake for the promise of water for his parched throat and not waking up in a crusty shirt.

* * *

"Look who's talkin'," Benrey mutters. Not that he thinks Gordon is gross, but if Gordon considers licking a little jizz to be gross, then Gordon is way grosser, by the sheer volume of ingested cum.

"Okay," Benrey nods eagerly, making a list in his head. Water, nap, clothes. Well, just water and clothes, Gordon can take care of the nap himself. "No kidding bro, way to go," he compliments, for some reason, then gets up to get the requested items.

He returns with an old MIT shirt, a pair of baggy basketball shorts, and a cup of water. "I think you'll look hot in these," he says, dropping the clothes next to Gordon on the couch. "Anything else?" he asks hopefully, as he holds out the glass. He doesn't actually know what he's hopeful for.

* * *

Gordon is already half-asleep by the time Benrey is back, and he forces his eyes open to accept the offerings. He gulps down the water first, opting to put the cup simply onto the floor when he’s done, and carefully gets out of his shirt.

His sluggish brain catches onto the fact Benrey is expecting an answer, so he says simply “hold on.” as he tugs the fresh shirt over his head. The pants come off next and no, Gordon doesn’t care that Benrey is right there next to him watching him undress, he’s seen pretty much everything important, a bit of ass isn’t going to do anything special for him at this point. Gordon puts the shorts on and lets himself fall sideways onto the couch, grabbing the nearest pillow and pulling it under his head. He pats the space next to him in a wordless invitation, cracking an eye open.

* * *

Benrey watches Gordon change rather shamelessly, eyes raking over the previously unseen skin of his torso and legs. Gordon is wrong about it not doing anything special for him. He feels a little weird just standing here, waiting for instructions, especially since just a few minutes ago Gordon was the one waiting to do anything Benrey told him. So as soon as Gordon pats the couch, Benrey is quick to comply, sitting down next to him and getting comfortable.

Yes, this is what he'd been hoping for, he knows now. He has no clue what any of this means for them. But for now, Benrey is content to chill out with Gordon on the couch until they have to deal with the repercussions of Gordon's raging uniform kink.


	29. Day 29: Sex Pollen- Darnold/Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same continuity as Day 2. Another sexy lab accident.

“Specimen X-69-B. A plump, red, plant-like pod about… twelve centimeters in diameter. Similar in appearance to a poppy, though it does not appear to produce any flower-like structures like Specimen X-69-A does. There is a round opening at the top, opposite the thick, fleshy stem. I will begin examination by palpating the specimen and...oh fuck.”

The pod puffs out a small cloud of thick, purple, smoke-like dust, and Darnold can’t help but gasp at the beauty of the swirling particles as they rise into the air. The sharp inhale pulls the pollen towards him, almost as if attracted by more than just the movement of air. Before he can stop it, the impossibly fine dust is slipping through the microscopic holes in his mask, into his nostrils and lungs.

“Uh oh, oh no,” Darnold mutters, knocking his stool over in his haste to put distance between himself and the pod. He’d had a feeling he might need extra PPE for this sample, but he’d dismissed the notion as overcautious. None of the other specimens had yielded airborne particulates like this, and there is no telling what inhaling it might do.

Darnold quickly clears the room, seals it, and notifies Anomalous Materials that they need an HEV team to secure the sample. In the meantime...he has no idea what effects the pollen will have on him.

It doesn’t take long to find out. He’s on the tram to Medical to get checked out when he feels a sudden heat break out all over his skin. It’s not unbearable, but it’s uncomfortable, and he scoots away from the person in the seat next to him. It doesn’t help. In fact, it feels almost worse. He scoots back. This feels better. Darnold moves closer, until he’s nudged up against them. The scientist clears his throat, gives him an affronted look, and stands up to move to the other side of the car. “Sorry,” Darnold breathes, embarrassed.

That feeling of embarrassment and discomfort only grows as the interminable tram ride goes on. Darnold is becoming more and more aware of his body as it heats up, seems to call out for some unknown alleviation. He stands up to grasp the pole in the center of the tram. The cold metal does nothing to help his hot skin. Darnold makes a small, involuntary whimpering noise, then puts his hand over his mouth.

Some of the other commuters are starting to glance at him. Their eyes on him are both mortifying and seem to offer an iota of reprieve from the sensation of increasingly distressing heat. He wants more than eyes on him. He wants hands and mouths and…

Darnold’s eyes go wide and he clasps his hand tighter over the noise trying to escape his mouth. Oh no… It’s becoming clear what exactly he wants to temper the discomfort. His cock is suddenly pulsing, thickening as it fills, throbbing with need. Darnold is trapped. Part of him wants to jump out the window into the subterranean void of Black Mesa’s transit system just to escape the critical stares of his colleagues. The other part of him wants to strip down to nothing, invite them all to get an eyeful, an handful, a mouthful, to touch and taste and grasp and penetrate. He would love nothing more than for the tram to pull into the next station, greeting the waiting riders with a mass of nude bodies writhing on the filthy floor, Darnold at the center, fucking and being fucked until he can hardly think.

The tram announcement system chimes at a station and Darnold is brought out of his fantasy. He’s panting, hanging on the pole like a lifeline, sweat beading on his forehead, and harder than he’s ever been in his life.

“Are you alright, Darnold?” someone who’s name he doesn’t remember or care about asks. “I think you might want to get down to Medical.” The scientist approaches, and Darnold leaps back. “Don’t touch me!” he shouts, because he doesn’t know what will happen if someone touches him, doesn’t know if he will be able to stop himself from doing something unspeakably indecent.

He’s definitely made a scene now, and manages to slip between the sliding tram doors just before they close. Many curious faces watch him out the windows of the car as it recedes down the tunnel. Darnold wipes his forehead and pulls his lab coat around his body, hoping to hide his massive erection as he heads into the building, not sure what department he’s in anymore.

Darnold doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he _wants,_ all too painfully. The Xenian plant pod seems to have given him an insatiable libido. He knows something is wrong because he’s hardly interested in the evolutionary implications of such an effect. He just needs to put his hands on someone, feel their hands on him, to kiss and suck and be sucked and kissed but...but… he’s surrounded by professional colleagues, people he can’t possibly ask for help with that sort of thing.

But it’s becoming more and more difficult to resist the temptation to grab someone, anyone, rub up against them until he feels some kind of relief. He needs to sequester himself, find somewhere to isolate and hope this wears off. He’s ducked into a small alcove to shove his hand down his pants. It feels like nothing, offers absolutely no satisfaction, it’s clear he’s meant to find respite at the hands of another person. It’s going to be a terrible quarantine…

He’s thinking about how to effectively lock himself in a closet when he turns a corner and bumps into someone. Someone tall and solid that feels incredible.

“Darnold! What are you doing in this department? I thought you had a-”

“Oh, oh Tommy! Thank fuckin’ god!” Darnold gasps. Somehow in his body’s frantic search for someone, anyone, he forgot about the one person he can rely on implicitly in such a situation. He wraps his arms around Tommy and hugs him tight, rubbing his cock against the other man’s leg.

“Uh...hi! N-nice to see you too…” Tommy says, flushing as he feels the hardness Darnold is sporting.

“Tommy if...if it’s not too much trouble I really, _really_ need you to fuck me. Like, right this minute.” Darnold says, trying to keep his voice low as several scientists walk by, giving them odd looks.

“Well...ah…” Tommy says, a confused half smile spreading on his face. He blinks down at Darnold, who’s never seen anyone more beautiful and sexy in his whole life. “If you insist!”

* * *

Tommy’s hands are like a soothing balm on Darnold’s feverish skin. His tongue seems to lick away all the discomfort of not touching and being touched. His lips press cooling kisses that spread comfort and satisfaction throughout his body. His long fingers fill the horrible emptiness inside Darnold, making him moan and twist with intense pleasure. It’s such a relief, and not just to find human contact, but to find it in someone he loves and trusts so much. It enhances the ecstasy tenfold, and he’s so, so glad it’s Tommy.

“Do you feel better?” Tommy asks afterwards, still holding Darnold close in the empty lab they’ve commandeered and locked.

“Yes…” Darnold nods drowsily, “So much. Thank you Tommy, I really needed that.”

“I could tell. You were more desperate than… uh... hmm…”

“Something really desperate,” Darnold suggests.

“Yeah!” Tommy says with a gorgeous, sparkling laugh. “Do you want to take a nap?”

“No time,” Darnold says as the fog in his brain begins to clear. “I’ve got to take down some notes. I’ve got ideas for some very interesting mixology applications for Specimen X-69-B.”


	30. Day 30: Bloodplay- Tommy/Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Kinkvember I guess.
> 
> CW: Blood, knifeplay, medical play
> 
> Extra thanks to Eggnog for the excellent brainstorming session.

“Are you... comfortable, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks, tightening the restraints on Gordon’s left arm.

“Uh, I guess. As comfortable as I can be,” Gordon replies as Tommy turns his back, doing something with the instrument tray. Gordon twists his head on the examination table. Benrey is standing on the other side, looking rather uncharacteristic in a lab coat matching Tommy’s. The expression on his face is familiar, though, eyes raking along Gordon’s naked skin with unabashed hunger.

That look combined with Gordon’s helplessness has him squirming under Benrey’s piercing gaze. He feels so incredibly exposed, tied down with his ankles strapped into stirrups, holding his legs open. Absolutely everything is on display.

“Hey, actually Tommy? Could you loosen the cuff on my right wrist? It’s a little tight.” Gordon asks.

“What was that?” Tommy spins around, scalpel in hand. The metal flashes in the harsh overhead light, but it’s not nearly as threatening as the almost-unhinged smile pulling across Tommy's face.

“D-Dr. Coolatta… sorry...please,” Gordon quickly corrects. That grin, the promise of that blade, the warning tone in Tommy’s voice, it all sends a shiver down Gordon’s spine, and his cock gives a twitch of fear-soaked arousal.

“That’s better,” Tommy says, smile softening as he lays a gloved hand on Gordon’s shoulder. Warmth bleeds through the latex, and Gordon’s shiver subsides. His cock is only getting harder, though. “Dr. Benrey, loosen the restraint, please.”

“Huh? What?” Benrey looks up from openly staring at Gordon’s growing erection.

“You should pay attention, Dr. Benrey,” Tommy says patiently, twirling the scalpel in his fingers, “You...w- want to be a good assistant, don’t you?”

“Yeah, ‘course. The best,” Benrey says. He reaches down to loosen the cuff around Gordon’s right wrist.

“Thanks,” Gordon mutters.

“Thanks what?” Benrey stops.

Gordon manages not to roll his eyes. “Thanks, Dr. Benrey,” he says, despite the notion being wholly ridiculous. Benrey grins and gives a nod, continuing until the cuff is no longer cutting off Gordon’s circulation.

“Okay, We’ll need to clean the skin first,” Tommy says.

“Right, on it,” Benrey says. He grabs a large square of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He absolutely soaks the gauze, filling the room with the sharp smell of isopropyl. Gordon wrinkles his nose, but the scent is absolutely doing things for him, enhancing the sterile, detached nature of the scenario. Even if Benrey’s rubdown of his chest and legs is less than professional. It’s sort of nice to have that duality. Though he’s about to get cut up like a lab specimen, he knows both of them care about him as more than just a piece of meat.

Benrey is making a deliberate move towards Gordon’s now half-hard cock, but Tommy clicks his tongue. “Dr. Benrey, we need to do things in the- the proper order. Standard operating procedure.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Benrey grumbles, and Gordon groans as Benrey slathers the alcohol over his inner thighs instead. He finishes up and attempts to toss the gauze in the biohazard bin with a layup shot. It misses by several feet. “Swish.” Benrey says.

“Good. I think we’re ready to get started with the examination,” Tommy says, “Subject is male, 27-years old, in good health. Now, we’ll begin by taking a blood sample." Tommy puts a hand around Gordon’s upper arm. The other hand wields the scalpel...

Gordon bites his lip as Benrey puts his hands on his chest, holding him down and soothing him at the same time. Gordon’s dick is getting harder by the second. Tommy leans in close over his arm, breath grazing Gordon’s skin as he finds a vein and makes a small cut.

“Mh,” Gordon makes a soft sound of discomfort, and Benrey runs a hand through his hair. Tommy holds a petri dish up to Gordon’s arm, collecting the blood as it flows out.

“Perfect,” Tommy says, pulling the dish away and holding a cotton ball to the incision. “The sample is ready for analysis. Dr. Benrey?”

Tommy hands the petri dish to Benrey, who takes it, squints at it, and then licks up the thick, red liquid. “Mn. Blood good,” Benrey says, smacking lips. A crimson smear remains at the corner of his mouth.

“Excellent observation, Dr. Benrey,” Tommy says happily, writing on his clipboard. “Hmm, the subject seems to be having an interesting sexual reaction to pain stimulus. That’s quite unusual,” he continues, lowering himself down to be at eye-level with Gordon’s throbbing erection, standing straight up from his supine body.

“The subject must be a real freak,” Benrey murmurs close to Gordon’s ear. Gordon shivers, cock twitching in confirmation.

“Please try to remain objective, Dr. Benrey,” Tommy chides. He moves away, leaving Gordon’s dick untouched, and picks up the scalpel again.

“The next incision will be on the left pectoral, about two centimeters above the nipple,” Tommy says, hovering the blade over Gordon’s chest. He looks absolutely lethal with the scalpel held expertly between thumb and middle finger, index finger laid atop the back to steady his movement. Benrey’s hands are on Gordon again, warming him in contrast to the rapidly evaporating alcohol that cools his skin.

Tommy lays the scalpel flat on Gordon’s chest, dragging it lightly against him, making him shudder. “It won’t be deep,” Tommy reassures, teasing with the edge of the blade, running it along Gordon’s quivering flesh. He does this until Gordon gets used to it, relaxes a little. And then Tommy turns the blade vertical, slicing into Gordon’s skin.

Gordon barely feels it at first, the scalpel is so sharp, parting his skin cells almost gently. But soon there’s a faint burning sensation, the welling up of blood along the cut. It’s hot on his chilly skin, ticklish and itchy as it starts to roll down his body.

Gordon gives a shuddering breath, trying to resist the urge to brush away the blood. He can’t, he’s completely restrained, at the mercy of Tommy and Benrey. Tommy is writing something down on his clipboard. Benrey is watching the progress of the blood with interest, eyes dilated like a predator tracking its prey.

Tommy finishes whatever note he’s taking and looks up at Gordon squirming and Benrey staring. “You can uh... clean the incision, Dr. Benrey.”

Benrey immediately dips his head forward, laying the flat of his tongue along Gordon’s wound. The saliva stings and Gordon jerks, straining at his bonds. God he wishes someone would touch his cock. He whimpers as Benrey’s tongue moves lower, circling his nipple before biting down gently on it.

“Dr. Benrey… you’ll have time to do your own um… examination later,” Tommy says, voice warning. Benrey and Gordon both make little disgruntled noises as Benrey pulls back. “The next incision will be on the inner thigh, along… along the adductor brevis.”

Tommy moves between Gordon’s legs, his body giving off a tantalizing heat. He kneels down, and Gordon strains his neck, trying to watch Tommy's face get so very close to Gordon’s dick. But not nearly close enough. Tommy ghosts the scalpel along Gordon’s thigh, causing the muscles to jump and twitch in response, like a terrified animal. Gordon’s breath hitches, and Benrey holds firm hands at his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the flesh around the base of his cock. So close…

Tommy cuts into his skin again, and Gordon feels it immediately this time, tries not to squirm to make it deeper. “Mmmhhh,” he moans, feeling the blood trickle down the curve of his leg. He can hear a faint drip onto the tile floor below them as Tommy retrieves his clipboard and resumes writing. Benrey is looking between Gordon’s face and the new incision, squeezing his hips and glancing at Tommy for permission to lick the wound.

Gordon struggles, again overcome with the intense urge to scratch at the nearly unbearable ticklish sensation of the blood running over his skin, to cover the wound and stop the bleeding. “Fuck…” he mutters, giving up and closing his eyes, going limp on the table.

“Tommy…” Benrey says, voice hoarse with lust. Tommy doesn’t correct Benrey’s disuse of his title. He’s earned the right to call him by his first name.

“Hm?” Tommy says, looking up from his notes. “Oh, yes uh...go ahead,” he says, a cruel little smile gracing his lips.

Benrey leans over and plants his open mouth on the cut, sucking at the blood and slathering his tongue along it. Gordon moans loudly, wishing he could put his fingers through Benrey’s hair, push him closer against him, redirect him to where he really wants his mouth. He fists his hands, curls his toes with need, eyes welling with moisture at just how helpless he feels.

Benrey finishes lapping at the wound, concluding with a few little kisses along the incision. He turns his head, breathing against Gordon’s cock. The warm, humid air is so good, but it only makes Gordon more desperate, trying to angle his hips to get closer. Precum gathers in a fat bead at the tip of his needy erection.

“Please…” Gordon and Benrey say as one. Then, at a reprimanding glance from Tommy, “Dr. Coolatta.”

“Just a moment,” Tommy mutters, furrowing his brow at his clipboard, but his mischievous grin remains. After another interminable half a minute he says, “Okay. We’re ready to collect the semen sample.”

Benrey’s lips are around Gordon’s cock in no time at all. Gordon lets out a long, low groan, twisting his wrists in his bonds. All he can do is thrust weakly up into Benrey’s hot, wet mouth. It’s so fucking good in contrast to all the pain and sterility and lack of getting his dick touched. Tommy is watching with interest, continuing to take his notes as Benrey sucks Gordon dry.

He comes with a stuttering gasp, Benrey’s nose pressed into his stomach, thumb digging into the cut on his thigh, vivid pleasure thrown into sharp relief.

Gordon watches through an exhausted, satisfied haze as Benrey takes the proffered test tube and spits into it, handing it back to Tommy. Tommy looks at the meager amount with an unimpressed expression.

“Dr. Benrey, you- you swallowed most of it,” Tommy scolds, shaking his head. “This is hardly enough for a proper analysis.”

“Whoops,” Benrey says with a toothy grin. He’s sitting on the edge of the examination table, palms running over Gordon’s sides. “Tasted fine by uh… my ‘nalysis.” He bends over Gordon’s chest to sing a teal and green note of Sweet Voice at the cut, using his lips to rub it into the skin. Gordon sighs as a cooling sensation floods through his muscles.

“I guess that’ll have to do for now. Let’s get the subject untied and comfortable, he’s been... so, so good, after all. A better subject than...organic chemistry!” Tommy smiles down at him kindly, and sets his clipboard on the instrument table. Gordon gets a look at his all-important notes: a doodle of Sunkist wearing rollerskates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know not to drink other people's blood without extreme precautions, right?
> 
> Getting these last few entries out is a real fuckin' chore. No longer having a time limit is murdering my motivation. Especially day 31, which is a free choice. Hard to pick something!!!!! But I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna fucking do it.


	31. Day 31: Foot Worship- Gordon/Benrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love a classic.

“Does somebody in here need a foot rub?” Benrey asks as he enters the living room.

Gordon glances up at him from his laptop. “Does somebody in here need to rub feet?”

Benrey shrugs and smiles a little.

Gordon uncrosses his calves and stretches his legs out in front of him. “Don’t go nuts, I _am_ trying to work.”

“Aww, no nut?” Benrey says, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, letting Gordon’s feet rest on his thighs.

“Well, I didn’t say _that_ ,” Gordons replies with a smirk, and focuses on his laptop again.

Benrey gets to his own work, such as it is, pulling off Gordon’s socks and laying them on the floor nearby. Gordon’s feet are still a little cold, so Benrey sets about warming them up, folding his fingers over those cute little toes. Gordon wiggles them a little, and Benrey steals a peek up at him, but Gordon’s face is hidden by the laptop screen, fingers clacking away at the keys.

Benrey spreads his fingers, interlacing them with Gordon’s toes and slowly pushing them back, feeling the bone and muscle and flesh stretching. Gordon gives an appreciative sigh and Benrey grins. He repeats the motion a few times, then rotates his wrists around, moving the toes in little circular motions before withdrawing his fingers.

Benrey presses the pad of his thumbs into the ball of each foot, rubbing with increasing pressure. The clacking of the laptop keys stutters, slows, and Benrey cranes his neck, trying to get a look over the edge of the screen. But he can’t do it without sacrificing his choice position under these feet.

He moves his hands down, thumbs gliding along the insteps while his fingers massage against the long bones on top, shifting the ligaments just below the skin. Gordon lets out a soft groan as Benrey kneads his knuckles into Gordon’s heels.

“Rough day sitting around the house?” Benrey teases, lightly dragging a fingernail up along one of Gordon’s lovely arches.

“Shut up,” Gordon says, instinctively kicking his foot out at the ticklish sensation, catching Benrey in the thigh with a sharp strike.

“Ow,” Benrey says happily, holding Gordon’s foot against the inside of his leg.

“I went running this morning,” Gordon explains. He rubs his foot along Benrey’s jeans, itching the irritated spot on the rough denim. Closer and closer to Benrey’s crotch, but just before he gets there he stops, slips out of Benrey’s grasp and crosses his ankles, setting them on Benrey’s knee.

“Oh yeah? Dogs are barkin’?” Benrey bites his lip, and takes hold of the presented bouquet of Gordon’s crossed feet, lifting them up to his head. He rubs his face all over the soles, lips caressing along the arches, stubble scraping the sensitive skin there. He tries to do it hard enough not to tickle, not wanting to be kicked in the face _too_ hard.

Gordon shifts, scooting down in his seat to press harder against Benrey’s face. He’s still typing, and Benrey has a feeling whatever he’s writing is going to need a lot of revision with how often he pauses, how irregular the keystrokes are.

He’s so lucky, Benrey thinks as he slips his tongue between Gordon’s big toe and the second one. Lucky that Gordon will indulge him like this when he knows the other man isn’t really into it. Not like Benrey is. It’s even nice, in a way, that Gordon isn’t paying him singular focus. Benrey can just get down and dirty on these puppies without having to worry too much about what Gordon will think about every little action he does. He can take his time, really appreciate these rad feet.

Benrey takes Gordon’s big toe into his mouth, sucking on it and tracing his tongue over the ridges embedded in the skin. Very special Gordon toeprint, must perform mouth-scan for identification in any future sexy foot crimes. Arch-Villainy. Heel Turn. Toe Smuggling.

Gordon’s other foot has drifted back down, sliding along Benrey’s thigh, more deliberate than before. Benrey had almost forgotten about his growing hard-on, focused so fully on Gordon’s feet. But now one of them feets is creeping up to his dick, brushing a toe over it before pushing up against him.

Benrey moans around Gordon’s toe, fitting another into his mouth as he starts to grind up on Gordon’s foot. He rubs at Gordon’s heel with this thumbs as he continues to slather his tongue over his toes, stretching his lips to get more in there. The more he does, the harder Gordon pushes against him. Gordon is still typing, still looking at his laptop while Benrey is working his ass off down here.

But Gordon isn’t totally unaffected. Benrey has a very good view between his legs, and can see that Gordon’s shorts are beginning to tent at the crotch. Probably not from the foot stuff itself, as Gordon has explained in the past, more from the attention, and from how much Benrey is into it. That’s hot. Gordon is into Benrey being into his feet. He’s into _Benrey_.

He’s got all of Gordon’s toes shoved into his mouth now, tongue laving over them back and forth, loving each plump little pad individually and all together. Gordon rubs his other foot along the shape of Benrey’s cock, kneading with his toes, stepping on his thigh with the curve of his instep fitted over the shaft.

Benrey looks up to see that Gordon has finally half-closed his laptop, is looking over it at him with a piercing gaze. Benrey feels himself flush. He must look pretty stupid with his mouth stretched open to accommodate Gordon’s toes, eyes lidded with arousal, hips canting up to get more contact from the other foot.

“I can’t work like this,” Gordon says, voice low and promising. “Didn’t I tell you not to go nuts?”

“Mmhmm,” Benrey mumbles through his full mouth. This is hardly nuts. If Gordon wants to see nuts, Benrey can show him nuts.

“Well,” Gordon steps down _hard_ against Benrey’s cock, has him seeing stars. “What’re we gonna do about it?

“Ahhgah suhh uhhguhh,” Benrey says, bottom teeth grazing Gordon’s toes.

“Huh?” Gordons says, pulling his foot from Benrey’s mouth against his protesting grasp.

Benrey licks his lips and repeats himself. “I got some ideas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a showstopper, or particularly original, but I got a request and I love to please.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote the whole thing. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much to the hlvrai horny server for all the motivation and inspiration. Could not have done it without y'all. 
> 
> And thanks as well for all the comments and kudos here. This was a huge fucking challenge, especially towards the end, where life (and death) got in the way. I still had so much fun writing, and it helped distract me at some points.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you found a few things throughout that you enjoyed.


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